


fool’s gold

by cashcakeplz



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruises, Cheating, Come Marking, Depression, Dirty Talk, Domestic Violence, Drinking, Dry Humping, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Facials, Graphic Violence, Light Dom/sub, London, Los Angeles, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Pet Names, Rough Sex, Self Confidence Issues, Smoking, and things get better for calum:), home sickness, just read it motherfuckers, then ash comes in, this fic is sad for awhile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 20:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16729806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cashcakeplz/pseuds/cashcakeplz
Summary: Luke calls often.Luke calls probably once a month now, used to call once a week.Calum rarely answers. He used to answer as much as possible but then Kiernan complained about Calum talking on the phone for hours and then as it became easier to let Luke go to voicemail, it became harder and harder to answer the phone at all.He doesn’t know what he would say if he did.But, even after six months of refusing to answer, Luke still calls. Each time his name appears on Calum’s phone, the man is suddenly snapped back to another time in his life, one filled with hope that filtered in his chest like light and dreams the size of oceans. A time when he held the stars in his hands; when someone pressed him close and whispered poetry into his skin.-Or the one where Calum is struggling with an abusive relationship and all he can think about is Ashton, who is across the world and probably doesn't even remember making Calum fall helplessly in love with him when he was sixteen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi boys.  
> So it has been about two years since I've posted. I have a hundred WIPs but don't get your hopes up. I really, really like this work, it's a bit different from some of my other stuff :).  
> I hope you guys enjoy it, please be aware of the tags.  
> There is graphic violence and effects of abuse in this work but it does have a happy ending :)  
> Let me know what you think!!  
> xx- Alex

The skin on Calum’s hands was becoming chapped from the cold weather, and, with a roll of his eyes, he realized that Kiernan was right about the gloves. He’ll probably get chastised or something when he finally goes up.

He rubs his palms together sheepishly before pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. A nasty habit, Calum thought, but it was hard to sit outside in the cold in London and not join the hundreds of others with glowing cherries. The Aussie inside of Calum sighed when he took his first drag. 

People-watching was quite fulfilling when one had nothing better to do and was putting off going home, so Calum did it a lot. Whether he was on the balcony of his apartment or at work or, like now, sitting by the side door to the apartment building, pretending his life  _ isn’t  _ a complete disaster. There are many different people in London, which Calum really enjoyed, and, as he took note of each face, he thought of poetry in his head. He liked to write, but words had trouble flowing from his head to a pencil, so most of his thoughts stayed secret. 

Not paying attention, Calum winces when the end of the cigarette burns his fingers. He swears as he drops it, quickly stamping his foot on top of it for good measure. Fuck his entire life. 

He climbs the stairs to the fourth floor, his fingers stuck in his mouth to try and assuage the burn. Kiernan hates it when he smokes, and will be livid if Calum’s fingers blister from the things he tells him every day to stop touching. 

“You smell like a fucking ashtray,” Is the first and only greeting Calum gets when he unlocks the door. He thinks about flipping Kiernan off, but the fight is out of him. Has been for a while. 

“I know.” He says instead, placating. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” Kiernan says, with a disappointed sigh. “Come over here. Kiss me.” 

Calum does. Kiernan is sitting at the kitchen table, his primly ironed work clothes still on, and cup of coffee sat in front of him. Calum’s heart starts a little bit because Kiernan is just so...so good for him. 

Too good for him, honestly. 

“I got you more patches, honey.” Kiernan says after Calum had pressed a careful kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you.” Calum whispers. He wraps his arms around Kiernan from behind, and presses his nose to his neck, but the bigger man pushes him off. 

“Go shower.” He says firmly, turning back to his laptop, scrolling through some spreadsheet that Calum thinks is very boring. 

“Yes sir.” Calum says in a low voice. “Do you want to…”

Calum trails off, looking at Kiernan hopefully as the older man looks up, horribly disguised disgust on his face for a moment. 

“I guess.” 

“Well, we don’t  _ have  _ to, I just thought-”

“Calum.” Kiernan says firmly, clearly annoyed. “I don’t really care what you thought, baby. Just go straighten yourself out.” 

Calum presses his top teeth to his bottom lip, and goes without looking at his boyfriend again. The hurt from being pushed away as if he’s nothing worth even looking at is a slow burn, but it’s one he can live with; one that he has been living with. 

The shower water is warm, which is a very nice change from the cold air he’s been stuck in all day. It falls over his face slowly, reminding him sweetly of Australia and the ocean and his friends by his side, their sun-kissed skin growing red from too much exposure, curly hair dripping boyishly…

He turns the water off, knowing he has to stop thinking of home, it will only make things so much worse. After he’s toweled off and has put on clean sweatpants, he spends time rubbing lotion vigorously into his hands in a half-assed effort to avoid getting chewed by Kiernan. 

The apartment is warm enough that he doesn’t need to put a shirt on, and when he enters the kitchen again, he notices Kiernan’s satisfied smile at the hickeys on his collar bones. 

“Much better, honey.” He says, kissing Calum’s bare ribs. Calum gives him a closed-lip smile, and follows Kiernan’s gestures for him to sit down on his lap. 

“How was work today?” Calum ventures, glancing nervously at his hands. 

“Fine, I guess.” Kiernan says without much conviction. He eyes Calum’s skin with fire in his eyes; much different from the look of disgust he gave Calum earlier. Calum secretly wonders if he’s taken his medication today. “I have a lot of work to do.” 

“I’m sorry.” Calum whispers. “We don’t have to do anything, then, we can just order takeout and rest a bit.” 

Kiernan shakes his head. 

“No, I want you to make us dinner.” He says. “I would, but, I just...have a lot to do. Then we’ll see how I’m feeling when we’ve eaten.” 

“Alright. Do you have anything in mind?” 

“No, but you’ll come up with something.” He says. He kisses Calum’s neck. “My perfect house bitch.” 

Calum laughs; he always does at Kiernan’s jokes, and gets up to start making dinner. 

“Yes sir.” He agrees, pulling pasta from the cupboard. 

Dinner is pretty quiet, Kiernan seems pleased with Calum’s creative concoction of chicken and pasta, which is a relief in and of itself. Calum never really learned how to cook, and he doesn’t particularly want to disappoint his boyfriend. If he found out, he’d probably force Calum to take cooking classes or some shit. 

His life is such a joke. 

Kiernan takes him to bed, despite claims that he had work to do and despite the way he looked at Calum earlier today. But, flesh is flesh, and Calum gives it to him without really thinking about it. 

He isn’t gentle; he never is, but Calum tells himself that he prefers it that way. If Kiernan were to suddenly tell Calum how perfect he is or kiss him sweetly, he’d be a little daunted at the idea of leaving their black-and-white mechanical routine of loving each other behind. He presses back against Kiernan’s thrusts, and his heart stutters when his large hands wrap around his hips tight enough to bruise. 

Kiernan falls asleep within about two minutes of orgasm, and Calum sits naked against the headboard, stroking his fingers idly through his boyfriend’s hair. Kiernan would pitch a fit any other time; he’s very meticulous about his appearance, but Calum likes messing him up, even if Kiernan is unconscious during it. The only thing he really wants at the moment is a cigarette to calm his anxiety, but he knows better. Kiernan will shut that shit down faster than lightning strikes the fucking earth. 

“I love you.” He whispers into the space behind Kiernan’s ear, even though the older man is asleep. 

Calum doesn’t mind the silence that settles in as he lays down to go to sleep; even if Kiernan had been awake, he wouldn’t have gotten a response. 

 

-

 

He dreams of home a lot, and tells himself that it’s natural when he hasn’t seen an Aussie sunrise in close to two years. 

It’s natural when he craves the stars that shined so beautifully for his youth when he can’t see them in London. It’s normal to miss the heartbeats of the people he’d fallen in love with when he’s grown accustomed to the pattern of the beat of someone whose love feels like a lie. 

There are two patches on his arm, and Calum knows that shit isn’t normal, this isn’t an episode of  _ Sherlock _ , he could probably hurt himself by doing that, but whatever. His smoking habit is because of where he lives, so he indirectly blames it on Kiernan. 

It’s easiest to blame it all on Kiernan even though Calum knows a lot of it is his fault, too. 

And it’s not just about the smoking. 

His mates, Kiernan calls them, are over tonight, and Calum is trying to hide in the bathroom, knowing the shitshow they’ve got going on right now in the living room. If he’s being honest, Calum knows his boyfriend probably doesn’t want him out there either, but he told Calum not to go out tonight because he wanted him to “hang out” with them, which mostly just involves refilling the chip bowl and fetching more bottles of beer. Sometimes, Kiernan’s stupid friends cop a feel of his ass, and Kiernan is too drunk to really care. 

Calum usually bites his tongue and avoids smacking away their hands. 

The bathroom door opens, and Calum hops off of the counter quickly, stuffing his phone into his back pocket. 

“Hi baby.” He says sweetly, smiling at Kiernan. 

“Cal, there you are, honey.” He says with a half-smile. He reaches forward for Calum’s hand, which Calum gives him. “I’ve missed you.” 

Calum nods so something stupid like  _ sure you did  _ slips from his mouth. His phone vibrates in his pocket, and Calum grabs it while following Kiernan back into the living room where two of his mates are laughing, drunkenly, at the episode of  _ The Office  _ playing on their television. 

**Niall (9:47 pm):**

_ Cal! I know  you said you’re busy with Kiernan tonight but the boys and I are going out in a bit, care to join? _

Calum reads the text with delight that is nearly drowned out by disappointment. No way Kiernan will let him go while his friends are at the house. Someone will need to make sure they find their way into a taxi, and god knows it won’t be Kiernan. 

“Um, Kay?” He ventures, locking his phone and shoving back in his jeans. 

“Yeah, baby?” Kiernan asks, pleasantly buzzed. 

“Was wondering, if you and your mates are just watching Netflix, if I could go out for a few hours?” He asks hopefully. Kiernan furrows his eyebrows. 

“Go out? With who? Your boyfriend is here.” He answers. 

“Yes, of course, but don’t you want some alone time with them? I know I can be a drag sometimes.” 

“Only when you hide in our bedroom.” Kiernan smiles, tugging Calum to sit beside him on the couch. One of his mates, Blake, Calum thinks, glaces over Calum with a satisfied expression on his face. Calum squirms a bit. 

“Right, so I think I’ll just head out then for the evening, if you guys will be alright-”

“Hey.” Kiernan bites out, jerking Calum back down to the couch as he tries to stand up. “I didn’t say you could go yet.” 

Calum makes sure he doesn’t spit out the  _ I don’t need your permission  _ that’s perched on the tip of his tongue, knowing that will just get him in trouble. 

“Who are you going with and where.” 

“I don’t know where and with Niall and the boys.” He answers. “Kiernan, please. It’s been so long since I’ve seen them.” 

Kiernan sits back and considers with a scowl on his face. He clearly doesn’t really want to make a scene in front of his friends, and Calum’s pretty sure he’s won this one, but he can never be sure; there’s no way to be. 

“Fine, but you text me when you change bars. And for fuck’s sake, keep an eye on Louis.” He says finally, then, as a whisper in Calum’s ear, “I don’t want any of their hands coming near you, understand?” 

“Yes sir.” Calum smiles sweetly. He kisses Kiernan’s cheek and presses his palms against his shoulders. “Can I wear one of your sweatshirts?” 

Kiernan nods in approval. 

“Have fun, baby.” He mutters before turning back to his friends. 

Calum excited responds to Niall’s text with the affirmative, and scours their closet for an appropriate jacket that belongs to his boyfriend. After he’s dressed, he goes back out to leave the apartment through the living room. He kisses his boyfriend goodbye and sets off for the door. 

“That’s a great piece of ass you’ve got there, Kiern.” 

Calum opens the door, fighting to ignore the comment. 

“Yeah.” Kiernan says lazily, bringing the bottle to his lips. “He’s not as good he looks, though.” 

Calum shuts the door and leaves the house. 

 

-

 

It’s only when Calum has  _ really  _ been a fuck up that Kiernan resorts to actually hitting him.

And Kiernan works out  _ every  _ morning, and he’s a very deliberate person. Which means, it fucking  _ hurts  _ when he does, so, needless to say, Calum has become very careful. 

“Hi, Calum Hood, I’m here to renew a prescription.” 

The woman behind the counter looks up at him behind horn-rimmed glasses with a synthetic smile. 

“Sure, sweetie.” She says before putting down the papers she was going through and sliding herself behind a chest-height computer and clicking away on the keys. 

Calum rocks back on his heels as he looks around the chemist’s shop at the packaged band-aids and random tubes of cream. While he’s here, he should probably get something for his hands. Even now that he’s started wearing his gloves, his hands are still red and dry. 

“Don’t have anything for ‘Hood,’ sweetie.” The woman says, and Calum clears his throat. 

“Right, that’s my bad. The medicine’s under the name ‘Hughes,’ ‘Kiernan Hughes.’” He explains. The woman raises a painted eyebrow. 

“Are you Kiernan Hughes?” She asks skeptically. 

“No.” He says, pulling out his wallet. “Kiernan’s at work and can’t come get his medicine, so I’m here to get it for him. I’m his boyfriend. I should be one of his contacts.” 

The lady (her name tag says ‘Shannon’), looks back at her computer, reading over the top of her obnoxious glasses. 

“Sure.” She says. “I’m going to need him to call here before I can release the medication, sweetheart. It’s nothing personal, you look like a very nice boy, but it  _ is  _ company policy. So just have Mr. Hughes give us a call, and we’ll-”

“No, please.” Calum says, a bit too explosively for it to be considered normal. Shannon looks a little taken aback. “Sorry, please, just...he’s very busy at work, I’d rather not bother him.”

The lady purses her lips. 

“You said you were his boyfriend?” She asks, and Calum nods. “But you don’t want to bother him at work?” 

Calum blinks, his jaw unhinging as he struggles to find words. 

“Look, sweetheart, I can’t give you the drugs without his explicit permission, I’m sorry.” She says, and Calum believes that she really is, but it doesn’t help his situation. 

He needs to get that medicine for Kiernan or his entire life will be suddenly even worse than it already is. 

“Yeah, alright. I’ll give him a call.” He says, with no small amount of reluctance. The lady offers him a pitiful smile and nods at him as he goes. 

Kiernan is clearly irritated that Calum is calling him at 2pm on a Wednesday, but Calum knew that he would be. 

“What do you need, Calum? I have a meeting in fifteen minutes.” He says quickly, exasperated. 

“Sorry.” Calum starts, knowing the impact will be less painful if he makes his contrition clear. “I’m at the shop to pick up your medication like you asked, but they won’t release it to me without your permission.” 

“Are you kidding me? Don’t you have your fucking I.D.?” He snaps.

“Yeah, I do, but-”

“Did you tell her that you’re one of my contacts? They should just give it to you.” 

Calum swallows down a snappy retort. 

“I did tell her, but the policy is that you have to give explicit permission. So you have to call her.” 

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, Calum.” He says back. “I’ll call them so you can get it. Please don’t call me at work again. I’ll see you at home.” 

Calum locks his phone with a sigh and shakes of his head, pressing it back into his pocket. He takes a deep breath. Kiernan’s only upset because he’s in the middle of a busy work week and because he hasn’t taken his drugs. Calum knows that at a normal time, he would never treat him that way, and that’s why he’s here, picking up Kiernan’s bipolar medicine during his lunch break so his boyfriend doesn’t have to. 

By the time Calum has retrieved the precious bottle of pills both he and his boyfriend rely on and is back in his car, he only has twenty minutes left and his job is seventeen minutes away. He starts the ignition and lets his head fall back against the seat for a moment before driving off with a low sigh. 

Kiernan allows Calum to order take-out for dinner mostly because, despite his issues, he  _ is  _ occasionally able to sense Calum’s moods. 

“Are you using the patches?” Kiernan asks over masala, glancing at Calum’s twitching fingers. The younger boy quickly curls his hands into fists. 

“I was using them all last week. Took a break today.” He admits. “That’s why I’m shaking so badly.”

Kiernan just nods in response, and Calum hopes he won’t push it anymore. They’ve been through this mill many times before, and it’s always the same. Kiernan figures out he’s been smoking, demands calum to stop and use patches or gum, and calum does for whatever number of days needed before Kiernan is appeased and he can smoke again. 

He’s not trying to get better, just trying to avoid things getting worse.

The last thing he needs in addition to addiction is bruises all over his arms. 

“I’m proud of you.” Kiernan says, sounding genuine even if his touch across the table feels like nothing but lies. Calum turns his hand over so their palms are touching; their fingers twist together and for a second, Calum feels pretty good...he feels pretty happy. 

“Thank you.” He smiles for the first time in what feels like weeks. In the back of his mind, Calum wonders when love turned into a box to be checked on a to-do list. He wonders when the chase ended and the world shrank in on him.

Deep in his chest, in a part of himself Calum swore he’d never think about again, he knows everything ended when he left Australia. 

“By the way,” Kiernan says softly. “I know I was short with you earlier. I didn’t mean to be. You know how I get when I don’t take my pills, and the stress…”

“You don’t have to explain, it’s fine.” Calum promises. He’s just glad they’re back to normal, as normal as they usually are anyway, and Calum got away without any violence. 

“You forgive me, then?” 

“Of course.” Calum smiles sweetly. His heart swoons a bit when Kiernan presses a kiss to his knuckles. 

“Excellent. Would you mind doing the dishes, I know it’s my night, but I’m just so exhausted.” He says with a half-sorry smile, his green eyes looking a bit aged. 

Calum swallows past the lump in this throat that just formed, and forces himself to nod.

“Sure.” 

“Love you.” Kiernan smiles and kisses Calums cheek as he leaves the kitchen. 

Calum gets up, his fingers digging into his palms so they won’t shake, feeling like Kiernan’s explanation, like most things, was bullshit.

Calum doesn’t know why he ever expects anything different.

 

-

 

Luke calls often.

Luke calls probably once a month now, used to call once a week.

Calum rarely answers. He used to answer as much as possible but then Kiernan complained about Calum talking on the phone for hours and then as it became easier to let Luke go to voicemail, it became harder and harder to answer the phone at all.

He doesn’t know what he would say if he did.

But, even after six months of refusing to answer, Luke still calls. Each time his name appears on Calum’s phone, the man is suddenly snapped back to another time in his life, one filled with hope that filtered in his chest like light and dreams the size of oceans. A time when he held the stars in his hands; when someone pressed him close and whispered poetry into his skin. 

It gives Calum such bad whiplash that he’s considered changing his number several times, but every time he gets close...something stops him. No matter how many times he’s tried to let those memories go...something just keeps holding on. 

 

There are bruises on his biceps and Kiernan’s medication has run out when Luke calls this time. Calum picks his head up from where it was rested in his knees, caramel eyes lazily reading the caller id. Something in him fractures when he sees them, the out-of-nation area on front of the familiar combination of numbers. 

If Calum were a stronger man, he would have let that call go to voicemail like he has a dozen times before. 

“Calum?”

Luke’s voice is sweet, deeper than he remembers, but smooth and kind and familiar and Calum wants to cry. 

“H-hey.” He gets out, sounding choked. He clears his throat. “Hey mate. Sorry.”

“Calum, it’s so good to hear your voice! I was beginning to think you’d died, man.” Luke laughs jokingly. 

Calum chuckles as well, wishing he didn’t feel like Luke was right. 

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just been...things have been busy here.” 

“I can imagine. Big city lad like yourself.” Luke says with ease. “How’s the job?” 

“It’s good. I actually just recently got promoted. I’m assisting one of the executive producers now.” He answers. 

“That’s so awesome, really. I’m jealous.”

They make small talk for a bit longer, and with every story Luke tells him about Sydney and about Mikey, who Calum hasn’t spoken to in quite some time, the pain in Calums chest loosens just a bit. He knows that when the call disconnects, it will only come back tenfold, but for now...for now Calum will allow himself to indulge in stories of home like cool water to a burn. Luke tells him about school and about the puppy he’s courting, and Calum listens intently, a finger idly pressing on a bruise that rests just below the bend of his elbow; where Kiernan wraps his hand to manhandle his younger boyfriend. 

“Are you alright?” Luke asks when their conversation dies down marginally. Calum nods before remembering that Luke can’t actually see him. 

“Yeah, I’m doing well.” He says. 

“Kiernan is alright?” Luke ventures.

“Yep. He’s out right now, I’m sure he’d love to speak to you otherwise.”

“Well...good.” Luke pauses for a moment and Luke hears him swallow. “Look, I’m really glad you’re doing well Cal. Not that I didn’t think you would, but it’s been so long since I’ve heard from you, and after everything with-“

“I’m glad too.” Calum says quickly, shutting Luke down before he can bring up exactly what drove him to leave home in the first place. “I miss you a lot sometimes. Thanks for not giving up on me. I know I’m not the easiest person to remember.” 

Luke makes an offended noise. 

“You think I could forget you?” He asks, astonished. Calum bites back the remark that sits on the tip of his tongue, the one that says  _ why not when everyone else has?  _

“Just a joke.” Calum says with a forced laugh. The last thing he wants is to make Luke think he’s going crazy. Even if he actually is. “Look, Luke, I uh...I gotta go get dinner ready.” 

There’s a long pause in which Calum thinks Luke is deciding whether or not he’s telling the truth. 

“Okay.” Luke agrees finally. “Well hey, if you ever want to talk to someone, just call, okay? I’ll be happy to talk anytime.” 

God, Calum can  _ hear  _ the smile Luke has in his face and the memory of the dimple pressed so carefully into his skin hurts Calum to the core. 

“I will.” He says, his voice cracking. “Talk soon. Bye Luke.” 

He hangs up and drops his phone on the bed as though it’s bitten him, and pulls his knees back to his chest quickly. His anxious fingers dig into the skin of his calves, his arms and head throbbing. Within seconds, the fragile silence is broken and heart-wrenching sob escapes from Calum’s mouth like a hiccup. He immediately slaps a palm against his face and squeezes his eyes shut; he will  _ not  _ cry. He fucking did this to himself, he does not get to sit here and wallow in his self pity and loneliness. 

He just doesn’t get to.

With cigarettes out of the question, Calum is desperate for something to take his mind off of the numbing pain spreading outward from the center of his chest. He settles for cleaning the kitchen floor, because there’s nothing else for him to do. Jabbing headphones into his ears, Calum tries to drown out how worthless his life is by scrubbing himself into the tiles of the kitchen floor, his skin becoming red and raw from the scalding water. 

Kiernan finds him an hour later, fussing away at any speck of dirt he can find and, like every other fucking mistake he’s ever made, viciously trying to remove it from his life, but never being successful. 

“Calum, honey.” 

Calum is numb to Kiernan’s voice, too lost inside of his own thoughts and anger and pain. 

“Please.” Kiernan says again, his voice jarringly gentle after their explosive fight not three hours before. He drops to his knees, his pants getting wet from the scrubbing water Calum was using, and he reaches for the scrub brush in Calum’s hand. “Stop, baby.” 

It’s takes some force to his wrist for Calum to finally let go of the cleaning tool, and as it clatters to the floor, the gears in his head shift and line up. The tears are impossible to keep away. 

“Shh.” Kiernan says, pulling Calum’s smaller body into his lap. The bridge of his nose presses into the mottled side of Calum’s face; the bruises came from the same hands smoothing down his back. “Come on Calum, you know I’m sorry. I’m sorry, don’t cry please.”

“You’re destroying me.” Calum mutters into the neck of Kiernan’s shirt. “I’m destroying myself.” 

Kiernan stands up and takes Calum with him, the younger lad clinging to him tightly. 

“You’ve been drinking again.” 

He lays Calum down on their soft sheets, tucking him in with care and concern. His soft eyes are so trusting, his hands are so sweet when they stroke back Calum’s hair. 

“You know I didn’t mean any of it.” Kiernan says again, kissing Calum’s forehead. “Get some rest.”

If Kiernan had really given a damn about anything other than himself, Calum thought as his heavy emotions pulled him towards sleep, he would have noticed that the liquor cabinet had been untouched.

 

-

 

“Don’t do that.” 

Calum is quick to obey, and looks back down at the menu in his hands. Kiernan absolutely hates when he looks around excessively, makes him look like a bimbo, Kiernan says. Even though he doesn’t know what exactly that is, Calum knows it not a good thing for people to think about him. 

“Sorry.” He mutters, his fingers digging into the plastic of the menu. It’s just to keep from shaking so Kiernan won’t give him that look that tells him to  _ stop, we’re in public _ , because he knows his boyfriend will be ordering for him all the same.  “This is quite lovely.” 

“Yeah?” Kiernan asks with a breezy smile. Calum nods and struggles his way to bringing his eyes up to meet his boyfriend’s. “I’m glad you think so, it’s a bit expensive, so.” 

Calum immediately feels guilty, which...kind of makes him angry because that’s what Kiernan was trying to do. He’s learned to see through Kiernan’s cool expressions to what he’s really feeling, to what he’s really implying. 

“I don’t mind paying for this one, babe.” He says, genuinely. Kiernan  _ does  _ spend a lot of money on their relationship from food purchases to gifts of contrition. Calum never asks for them, but Kiernan has no other way of expressing his apologies for hurting him. “I just got paid.” 

“I know.” kiernan says mindlessly, reading over the menu. “But you need to pay for your car.” 

“It’s paid for.” 

“Then you need to pay for gas.” He says simply. 

“Full tank.” 

The menu is made from heavy cardboard and plastic and when it hits the table, it makes the candles and cups rattle. No one looks over when Kiernan slams it down, but it’s a close thing, and Calum quickly tenses up. 

“Calum, baby, just drop it. I’ll pay for it.” Kiernan says with forced calmness. The pet name is a huge indicator that Calum is wearing down on his patience, so Calum shuts his mouth and sets his menu down as well, folding his hands together carefully. 

“Okay.” He says in a quiet voice. “Thank you.” 

They chat idly, mostly about work and how much effort Kiernan is putting into a new project in the hope of impressing his boss enough to earn him a promotion. Kiernan makes it clear that if he gets it, there will be quite the celebration, and Calum’s lower back gives a ghostly throb at the memory of their last “celebration” in which Kiernan fucked him until he had cum three times. Despite this, Kiernan had hardly smiled when Calum told him about his own promotion, which he had worked  _ so  _ hard for. He’d nearly run himself into the ground to earn it. 

Kiernan orders Calum chicken parmesan even though Calum would really prefer having steak. 

At home, Calum sits Kiernan down on the bed and straddles him, cupping the back of his neck and pressing kisses to his cheeks while the older man’s grope at his back and shoulder blades. 

“Deeper.” Kiernan demanded, tugging on Calum’s hair a bit harder than was really necessary; he should know Calum’s just teasing. He fucks Calum’s mouth until the younger boy has tears falling from his chin and then, when he finishes, makes sure to get it all over Calum’s face, even some into his hair. 

“There’s something I need to talk to you about.” Calum says when it’s over, and he’s laying on Kiernan’s chest, the man’s fingers brushing over a scar on Calum’s shoulder that he gave him. 

“What’s that?” Kiernan asks, his free hand flicking through channels on the t.v. 

“My friend Michael called me the other day.” 

“Michael?” 

“Yeah, he’s like my best friend from back home.” 

Kiernan nods slowly as if he remembers Calum mentioning something about that but Calum knows he doesn’t. 

“And?” 

“Well, he and another friend of mine are going to be in town.” 

“They’re going to just ‘be in town?’” Kiernan scoffs. “It’s not exactly a short trip, Calum. Did you invite them here?”  

“Not really.” Calum says lamely. “Mikey’s got an aunt of here or something...but, anyway, I offered to let them stay here, since we have a spare room and they can save some hotel money that way.” 

“If they’re coming up to see Michael’s aunt, can’t they just stay with her?” 

“I think they’re also coming up for a vacation, and to um...to see me.” He explains slowly. He can feel Kiernan stiffen a little under his touch. 

“Why do they want to see you? Have you told them something is wrong?” 

“No,” Calum says quickly, backtracking. “It’s just...been close to two years since I’ve seen them, and I thought it might be nice to see them while they’re so close.” 

“And you didn’t want to ask me first if they could stay?” 

“I’m asking you now.” 

Kiernan sits up so quickly, Calum nearly falls off the bed. 

“That’s not how this works, okay? We have to communicate about this stuff, especially if it’s going to impact me.” He snaps. “Do you not understand how relationships operate?” 

“No, I do.” Calum says, a bit sharper than he meant. “But this is my flat, too. I help pay for it. I haven’t seen either of them in close to two years because I’ve been-”

“You’ve been what, Calum? Stuck here with me?” Kiernan asks, obviously not very pleased. “Do you not want to be with me anymore, is that it?” 

“What?” Calum asks, completely confused. “What in the fuck about this makes you think I don’t want to be with you anymore? I just want to see my friends for a few days. You have friends over all the time.” 

“I don’t appreciate the tone you’re speaking to me with.” Kiernan says dangerously. “Do I need to remind you of who the breadwinner is here?” 

“I know that you are.” Calum says firmly. “I just want to see them again, will you let me?” 

There are sometimes occasions in their relationship when Calum is able to take Kiernan at face value and challenge him with something. Sometimes, it ends up with bruises and pain and hurt, but the few times it pays off and Calum is rewarded for his bravery are well worth the risk. 

This is one of those times. 

Kiernan stares at him, and for the first time in what feels like months, Calum stares back, eyebrows gently furrowed. Instead of answering, Kiernan just shakes his head in an exasperated fashion and storms out of the bedroom, taking the comforter of the bed with him. 

Calum shivers for a little bit, feeling a little defeated, as he does every single time he and Kiernan disagree on something, before getting up and collecting a blanket from the closet, which isn’t anywhere as warm as the comforter or the couch throw, which he’s sure Kiernan has taken for himself as well. He turns off the tv, he rarely sleeps with it on anyway, and settles down on the pillows, feeling vaguely grateful Kiernan decided to leave instead of making Calum go. At least this time he gets a pillow. 

Around 3am, Kiernan comes back in, a kisses Calum awake. Calum would be freaked out and confused if this occurrence wasn’t rather normal for them. 

“This isn’t a dictatorship.” Kiernan whispers into his skin, his mood  _ completely  _ flipped from what is was a few hours ago. “Of course your friends can come to stay with us. And...I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I didn’t mean to get angry, it’s just...so hard to control sometimes, you know that.” 

Calum nods tiredly, and opens his arms so Kiernan can  fall into him. 

“Shh, it’s alright.” Calum reassures, his fingers running through Kiernan’s hair. 

“I know I’m messed up.” Kiernan whispers. “I know I’m messed up, but I’ll get it under control. Please don’t leave me.” 

He must have heard it a hundred times before, but like each time before, Calum believes him. Kisses are pressed into skin and tears are wiped away, and Calum believes him. 

He believes Kiernan will get better…

Hopefully he does it before he ruins them both completely. 

 

-

 

Luke hugs tight enough to crack ribs when they finally meet each other in the airport, and Calum returns it with a pleased and startled laugh.

Right after they break apart, Luke’s hands are pressed to his cheeks and questions are flying out of his mouth like lighting, making Calum’s head spin. He laughs, remembering that light in Luke’s eyes, and slowly pries Luke’s hands away from his face while doing his best to answer all of his questions. 

Michael is not as excited to see Calum, there’s a hesitance there that shows Calum just how badly him leaving hurt his best friend. Even though he had been the one to call Calum and tell him that they would be coming up, he sounded very stiff over the phone, and now looks every inch indignant to be standing in Calum’s presence for the first time in two years. 

Luke senses the tension between the two of them, and rushes out that he’s going to pick up their bags while Michael and Calum work the situation out. With Luke gone, there’s uncomfortable silence for a moment while the two size each other up. It’s a little hard for Calum to look at him, green eyes burning bright with passion as they always have. He’s gotten taller, they both have, and thinned out a bit. His hair is bleached blonde and there’s stubble on his chin. The brim of the snapback he’s wearing nearly covers the scar on his eyebrow from where he’d gotten his piercing just before he turned eighteen. 

The sight of it nearly knocks all the air from his lungs. 

Michael starts towards him, all confidence and ripped black jeans, and Calum steps back, intimidated and regretful of everything he did to Michael. His mouth feels dry, but he still manages a few words. 

“Look, Mikey, I know that what I did, leaving like that-”

“Just shut up and hug me, please.” Michael says finally, nearly plowing Calum down in his haste to hug him. 

Calum is shocked for a moment, the world spinning for a few seconds before he eagerly hugs back, his fingers digging into the flesh of Michael’s back desperately, and the relief...the relief is sweet, unlike anything he’s felt in so long. 

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” Calum mutters, turning his face into Michael’s neck. “It’s been too long.” 

“I know.” Michael says back, his voice sounding heavier than Calum remembers. 

They pull apart just as Luke’s coming back, cheeks flushed already and his smile doubled when he sees his two friends back together. 

“Perfect.” He says, knocking shoulders with Calum. “Just as I expected.” 

Calum rolls his eyes and leads them out of the airport. 

 

Michael and Luke seem to be dating... _ finally _ . 

Calum notices the way Michael’s eyes linger on Luke as he walks away; he notices the way Luke touches Michael’s waist in a careful way when they’re pressed close. It makes Calum’s heart feel good to see how gentle they are with each other...how perfect they are and how perfect they’ve always been. 

“So,” Michael says with a mouth-full of food. “When do you get to meet this so-called boyfriend?” 

Luke nods along excitedly, and Calum covers up the twist in his stomach with a small smile. 

“Yeah, you’ll meet him tonight when we go back to the apartment. He just got off of work.” 

“He didn’t want to come to dinner?” Luke asks sweetly. 

Calum still can’t believe the fucker has a lip ring. 

“No, he doesn’t really like pubs.” 

“Doesn’t like pubs?” Michael says in a shocked voice. “What kind of man doesn’t like pubs?” 

He levels his gaze with Calum’s seriously. 

“Is he a sugar daddy, Calum? Be honest, I won’t judge you.” 

Calum actually laughs. It’s a punched out sound that he wasn’t expecting to escape from his mouth, but does nonetheless. 

“No.” He says with a slight wheeze. “No, he’s just very...posh.” 

Luke lets out a whistle before elbowing Mikey slightly. 

“See what happens when they leave Oz?” He points out sagely. “They start to learn all the fancy lingo. Calum’s got himself a  _ right posh gentleman _ .” 

Luke says the last three words with a horrendously poor english accent which Calum snickers at as well, but Michael just rolls his eyes and sips his Corona. 

“Speaking of which,” Luke says. “ _ Do  _ you have an accent yet? You don’t sound much different.” 

Calum clears his throat, and, for the audience’s enjoyment, spurts out the most English line he can think of, which, if he’s honest, probably came out of Kiernan’s mouth at some point. Luke cackles with laughter, and even Michael cracks a smile that he hides in his hand. 

“Well, it’s a hell of a lot better than your Kiwi, but not as good as your Scottish.” He decides, and Calum can’t help but to agree. 

They laugh and eat and drink like not a day has gone by and they’re still eighteen and untouchable until the sun is well past setting and Calum knows they should be getting back soon so as not to piss Kiernan off. He’s been in a very bad mood all day, but Calum’s too high from being with his friends (and maybe just a little bit tipsy) to really give a fuck. 

 

Kiernan is still awake when they get home, but is thankfully in sweatpants and a t-shirt instead of his work clothes. He looks a little taken aback by the colorfulness of Calum’s friends, but smiles politely as they come in. 

“Kiernan,” Calum hiccups. “This is Luke,” He points to the blonde who smiles sweetly. “And Michael. They’re going to say here tonight.” 

“A pleasure to finally meet you.” Kiernan says with fabricated lightness. The three of them shake hands, Michael narrowing his eyes just barely, but still enough for Calum and Kiernan to notice. 

“Quite a lovely place.” Michael says offhandedly. 

“Thank you.” Kiernan says back. “Calum actually found it.” 

The credit makes Calum’s chest all warm inside because Kiernan rarely gives it to him. Before they can move on from the comment, however, Luke is yawning loud enough to make Calum wince. 

“Jet lag.” Mikey explains, patting Luke on the back gently. “We’re a bit exhausted.” 

“I’ll take you guys to your room.” Calum says quickly. He turns to Kiernan. “I’ll be back in a just a minute.” 

Kiernan says goodnight as the three of them walk to the end of the apartment and Calum helps his two best friends from home settle in. 

“You seem happy here.” Luke says as he sits down on the bed he and Michael will share. Calum sits down beside him. Michael is in the bathroom. 

“Do I?” He asks back with a smile. Luke tips his head to the side. 

“Are you?” 

Calum lets out a sigh. 

“I don’t know.” He says honestly, because he doesn’t. He doesn’t know. Luke nods slowly like he understands what Calum is saying, but how can he? 

How can he understand the fucking situation Calum is in? How can he understand how the only time Calum doesn’t hurt is when he’s fucking numb or drunk. 

“Well, I’ll let you rest then.” He says quickly, before his thoughts threaten to consume him. 

 

“They seem lovely.” Kiernan says into the space between their faces as they lay in bed that night. 

Calum’s mouth tugs in a smile and he nods. 

“Yeah, they’re great. I’ve missed them lots.” 

“Do they know why you left?” 

“Yes.” Calum says, looking away. 

“Maybe one day you’ll tell me, too.” Kiernan says, dragging the back of his pointer finger over Calum’s cheek bone. 

The action makes him flinch a little bit, and, as he turns away from Kiernan, he hears the older man sigh before he turns the other way too. 

 

-

 

Sometimes, Calum’s dreams are hazier than normal. 

Sometimes they come in flashes of tan skin, or sunny smiles, or a touch, or a voice, or a promise. They float through his conscious like wisps of clouds, there and perfect, and then gone in a moment. 

_ You’ll never be anyone’s again. If someone hurts you...I’ll kill them, you know I would. _

Lips come next, soft but insistent, and everything Calum dreamed of his first kiss being. 

_ Your eyes are songs, did you know that?  _

**_Sap._ **

_ I’ll write music for you, just so you’ll believe me.  _

He has the vaguest memory of arms around his; tattooed hands on tattooed wrists. Then his alarm clock goes off, and Kiernan is rolling out of bed with a groan and his bottle of pills in rattling in the bathroom and the sink is running. 

Sometimes, Calum’s dreams are worse than usual, and waking up is the hardest and best thing he’s ever done. 

 

-

 

Their fight on the first of November is easily the worst they’ve ever had. 

It started as something stupid, something like Calum leaving his cereal bowl on the counter and Kiernan, in turn, bitching about how immature Calum is, like he’s his mother...or worse, his fucking older sister or something. And while Kiernan has slowly but surely been diminishing Calum’s self-confidence level, he still has enough attitude in him to make a remark about how he’s not seven to Kiernan which earns him a fisted hand around the elbow. 

Calum had had a shitty day at work, and his friends were going out without him because Kiernan made him stay home, so when he ripped his arm from Kiernan’s grip, it felt pretty fucking good, and he didn’t think about the consequences when he shoved his boyfriend away from him. But, his moment of self-satisfaction was short lived as Kiernan grabbed him even more forcefully, and made Calum look at him before doing his worst. 

“You don’t get to fucking speak to me like that, Calum, do you understand me? I pay the fucking bills, I put up with all of your stupid bullshit. You’re constantly out with your friends or glued to your laptop, and if you’re not, you’re always annoying me when I’m trying to get shit done!” He screams, shaking his boyfriend. “All I ask is that you clean up after yourself instead of behaving like a pig in a pen. You take everything for granted. You clearly don’t understand what it takes to deal with you. In fact, some days, I seriously fucking question why I do. What do you do for me, Calum?” 

Calum tries to yank his arm free again, the effect of Kiernan’s words already setting in; making him angry with hurt. 

“You do  _ nothing  _ for me. You’re not pretty, you’re not smart, and you’re not even that fucking good at having sex.” Kiernan snaps, finally letting Calum go by pushing him away. 

“Kiernan-”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m tired of hearing it.” 

“Hearing what?” Calum demands, tears starting to fall. “You never fucking listen to me, anyway!” 

Kiernan swings his arm down, connecting harshly with the kitchen table, which knocks Calum’s breakfast bowl to the floor, effectively shattering it. Kiernan ignores it, and continues on. 

“That’s because everything that comes out of your mouth is a waste of my time.” Kiernan says, gesturing wildly with his hands. “This is why you left home Calum, because the only thing that you’re actually good at is fucking things up. I swear to shit some days you ruin everything you touch. Hopeless, honestly.” 

Calum’s bottom lip trembles pathetically, like it did when he was seven years old and he’s fallen out of the tree he’d climbed that his mother told him to say away from. The teeth he digs into the flesh to try and stop the sobs are sharp; painful even and Calum is  _ pissed _ . 

“I’m not hopeless, even if you think so.” He mutters, fighting against the frustration. Kiernan turns on him. 

“No?” He asks. “What’s one helpful thing you’ve done for someone other than yourself in the past month, huh?” 

The only thing Calum can really think of is picking up Kiernan’s medicine, but he knows that will only piss Kiernan off more, so he just stays silent, letting the effect of his boyfriend’s words sink in. He looks down to the floor to try and hide the flush on his cheeks. 

“That’s what I thought. That was cute, though, the way you tried to stand up for yourself.” Kiernan laughs. “I mean, all the power to you, babe. You’re clearly making a great life for yourself.” 

Calum crosses his arms over his chest and turns away, shaking his head. 

“There something you want to say?” Kiernan demands, grabbing Calum by the arm again to turn him around. “Go ahead and say it and stop being a pussy about it.” 

Calum sniffs and keeps his gaze level with Kiernan’s collar bone. 

“At least I’m not a bloody psychopath.” 

Kiernan, for how indifferent he is about some things,  _ hates  _ being called a psychopath. As the embers in his eyes slowly grow, Calum thinks that he must have a death wish. 

There’s a trick that Calum learned a while ago when Kiernan first started to hurt him. He’s pretty sure it’s called the turtle trick, but at this point...it feels different. It’s like he’s not there anymore, he’s suddenly someone else standing outside the kitchen, listening as some nameless boy whimpers and begs for his boyfriend to stop. He doesn’t feel anything...doesn’t hear what Kieran has to say...and it’s better that way. He deserves it, anyway. He provoked the shit out of his boyfriend, and he knows that if he had just kept his mouth shut and done as Kiernan had asked, he wouldn’t be in this situation at all. 

When Kiernan finally runs out of steam, he storms out, grabbing a jacket from the couch on his way and slamming the door for effect. 

Calum waits for a few seconds to make sure he won’t be coming back for second helpings before letting his body go limp on the floor. It hurts so bad, he can hardly fucking  _ breathe _ . His ribs ache like a motherfucker and he can feel how swollen his face is becoming. But it’s nothing compared to the pain in his chest from the words Kiernan had thrown at him. 

And nothing hurt worse than the realization that everything he said had been  _ true _ . 

 

-

 

Two weeks after the unfortunate incident, Calum is leaning over a pot of water carelessly waiting for it to boil. He knows as well anyone about the ‘watched pot never boils,’ but honestly the sooner it boils, the sooner he’ll have to face Kiernan again. 

The past fourteen days have been tense, and Calum has taken to speaking as little as possible and is meticulous in his actions, especially around the house. The sex was rough and painful, and just felt like another punishment even though Kiernan had been trying to apologize through it.

Deep inside, Calum knows that it’s not Kiernan’s fault he’s so angry and moody all the time, after all, Calum can’t even begin to understand what he’s going through. But still...he’s just tired of trying to keep up with it, and trying to keep excusing everything he does. Calum doesn’t want Kiernan to think that he’s impossible to love because of his disorder...which was where he was when Calum met him. 

Calum keeps leaning over the pot because it’s warm and away from Kiernan and presses against the raised bruises on the inside of his elbow idly until his phone rings on the kitchen table. He sighs before moving over to the small device and checking who it is. 

There’s not contact saved for the number, and his phone says that the call is coming from Los Angeles...Calum figures it a telemarketer or someone else he doesn’t care about and lets it ring. 

“Goddammit, Calum!” Kiernan yells. “Answer your phone!” 

Calum rolls his eyes and puts his phone on silent before returning to the pot.

 

-

 

The scar on Calum’s collarbone is perfectly circular and slightly textured.

Niall once asked about it at a hot tub party for Harry’s birthday. Between sips of whatever the fuck Louis had given him, Calum told him it was from a barbed wire fence that he had tried wiggling under when he was fifteen. Sometimes, when Calum sees the scar in the mirror, he imagines that’s where it really came from. 

The fantasy is usually interrupted be the  _ actual  _ memory of how he got it, when Kiernan had caught him smoking in the bathroom after they’d had sex. While Kiernan fought to take it out of Calum’s hand, and Calum fought to keep smoking it, the cigarette had fallen from his hand and landed on his collarbone. Kiernan had then  _ accidentally  _ pressed his hand over the still-burning stick until Calum had screamed and kicked him away. 

Today, the circle is nothing more than a memory of the acidic burning sensation and the apparent heartlessness of his boyfriend. It should have been a sign for him that the relationship was going nowhere fast. 

“Calum, honey, are you almost ready?” 

Calum looks over his shoulder at Kiernan who is dressed in his best suit for dinner with his boss to discuss his promotion. To his great shock, Calum was invited by Kiernan’s boss to come along. Kiernan seemed to be in a good mood these past few days, and had excitedly told Calum the news, and had  _ not  _ given him a list of guidelines for how to behave. 

Calum already knew anyway. 

“Yeah, I’m good to go.” He says with a smile, doing up the last button of his shirt and hiding the cigarette-burn scar in doing so. 

“Excellent. I’ll meet you in the car.” Kiernan said with a kiss to Calum’s cheek. 

Calum turns off the bathroom light and grabs his suit coat from the hook next to the bed before grabbing his phone as well. Just as he grabs it, the damn thing starts ringing, pulling up the phone number from a few weeks before with the LA location listed on it. 

With an irritated scoff, Calum locks it and shoves it in his pocket before rushing to his boyfriend. 

 

-

 

The third time the fucking LA number pops up on his phone, Calum is in the middle of throwing back a purple jello shot that is at  _ least  _ 95% vodka. 

He’s beyond on his way to hammered, and when he starts to answer the call, Harry, ever-logical Harry plucks it from his hand. 

“No, no.” Harry smiled while confiscating it. “You don’t want to do that, mate.” 

Calum took another sip of his drink, pleased with the buzz the alcohol had given him. 

“It’s just some salesman.” 

Harry lifted an eyebrow.

“Calling you from LA, really?” He laughed. Calum frowned, not really understanding why that was so funny. 

But before he could really worry about it, Louis was bounding over and wrapping his tiny fucking raccoon hands around Calum’s wrists and dragging him out onto the dance floor with an absolutely  _ filthy  _ wink at Harry. 

Calum lets Louis guide him into a rhythm and loses himself in the burn of alcohol and, for the first time in months, the feeling of being completely free. 

 

Calum gets chewed to hell and back for being so hungover the next day, but Calum thinks it’s totally worth it. His phone is completely dead after partying all night and being too confused to plug it back it, so he lets it sit for a while whilst he goes about his daily duties. It isn’t until he’s put the casserole they’re going to have for dinner in the over that he sees a voicemail notification. Usually, the only person who leaves him voicemails is Luke or even occasionally Michael, but Calum would have known if he’d missed one of their calls. Curious, Calum makes sure Kiernan is busy with the television and sits down at the kitchen table to listen to it. He pulls his knees to his chest and presses play on the message. 

_ Calum, hey.  _

Calum’s heart abruptly stops. 

_ It’s Ashton. I know...I know this is weird and really out of nowhere, and there’s no way to say all that I want to say in however long this voicemail allows.  _

There’s a long pause in which Calum’s pulse beats against his head like a fucking hammer. 

_ Look, I’m just calling to check in...to see how you are I guess. I don’t know if I have the right to do that even after two years. And, um, you don’t need to answer this and you can keep ignoring my calls if that’s what you’re doing. But...I just want you to know that I think about  you all the time -or, no. shit- that’s not what I meant. I just...I was thinking about you the other day, and- _

The voicemail cuts off then, leaving the rest of whatever Ashton as going to say a mystery, but the damage has already been done. Completely numb, Calum sits in the kitchen chair in utter shock for a good ten minutes before the kitchen timer goes off. In a daze, Calum takes the stupid casserole out of the oven, and sits back down at the table, staring at his cell phone. 

It’s been....god, Calum doesn’t even know how long. 

But it’s been so long since he’s heard that voice. So long since he’s heard that boy say his name. So long since he’s allowed himself to think of him...to think of honey curls and a smile that could turn cloudy skies clear. And all of the sudden, Calum’s chest is encased in plastic, sinking in on itself as the world crashes down on top of him. 

He tries to grab the table for support but his fingers miss the edge by a few centimeters and he goes crashing to the ground, feeling like he’s going to be sick. 

Kiernan comes rushing in at all the commotion, concern clear on his face when he finds Calum having a meltdown on the kitchen floor. He says Calum’s name repeatedly, speaks sentences to him that Calum doesn’t understand. 

He doesn’t...he can’t feel  _ anything  _ right now except...fear and regret and  _ longing _ . 

“Calum, please, I don’t know what to do.” Kiernan says, frustrated and freaked out by Calum not responding to him. 

Calum still can’t find himself to focus on Kiernan, and the only thing he can think is…

_ I don’t know what to do either.  _


	2. Chapter 2

For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, Calum  _ tries  _ to think about the life that he left back home. 

There were beaches of white sand that burned bare feet and board shorts and tank-tops that showed too much adolescent skin. Luke and Michael were there, bright souls of laughter and the ability to know what Calum was thinking even when Calum struggled to figure that out. Home was packed-lunches and hastily scribbled notes on the edges of loose-leaf paper. It was crumpled uniforms thrown in the corner of the room after a long day and the burn of muscles during an intense game of football. 

And home was of course...Ashton. 

Ashton, who with one look, could flay Calum open as if he’d never had secrets nor would he ever again. Ashton, who had whispered dreams against Calum’s skin and made Calum feel like the stars and moon were created just for him. Ashton, who had listened and understood in a way that no one else could have; who had ruined Calum’s heart for  _ anyone  _ else. 

The night sky is dark, obviously, and the only light Calum can see anything by is the burning end of his cigarette. He broke his previous record of staying away from the fucking things and was starting to think that maybe he’d finally when given them up when he heard the voicemail and his life decided to fucking burst into flames. 

Kiernan is out with his friends, and, thank god, gave Calum the option of staying home, where he is now, smoking on the balcony. It’s got to be around thirty degrees, which is not acceptable weather for Calum to be wearing nothing but a hoodie and boxers in, but the cold air is a welcome distraction. It’s crisp and cutting and allows Calum to breathe easier, assisted by the nicotine in his cigarette. 

Ashton hasn’t called since the voicemail and Calum is still trying to decide if he’s waiting for an answer. He’s still trying to decide if it would be a good idea to do so. 

Like Ashton said, it  _ has  _ been two years; maybe things are different. Maybe Calum will be able to push away all the emotions that threaten to drown him everytime he so much as imagines Ashton. Honestly, it’s been so long, Calum is sure they both should have moved on, yet…

_ I think about you all the time _ , Ashton had said. 

Or maybe they hadn’t both moved on; god knows Calum hasn’t. 

Calum takes another deep, deep drag of his cigarette. 

 

Louis is basically Calum’s saving grace at this point, the only person who voluntarily encourages him to drink and doesn’t look at him with pity. 

Everyone around Calum knows about his relationship with Kiernan, but Louis is the only one who really seems to get it. So, when Louis presses some heavily mixed concoction with a dangerous pink color into his hand, Calum gratefully accepts it a sign of friendship, and not a sign of compassion. 

“What exactly are we celebrating?” Liam asks scornfully, eyeing Louis’ drink with far more hesitance than Calum had. Probably a smart move, if he’s being honest. 

Calum shrugs, and Louis grins. 

“Nothing at all, why do you ask?” 

“Because you’re mixing drinks and encouraging everyone to get pissed.” Niall tacks on, with really no room to talk, he’s had more of Louis’ killer mix than even Calum.

“Does one need a reason then? I just feel it’s been too long since the six of us have gotten pissed together.” Louis throws a pout. “And I’m sick of feeling alone!” 

Everyone rolls their eyes together and watch as Harry, predictably, comes rushing over to plant a kiss on Louis’ cheek. Liam, also predictably, rolls his eyes before throwing back the drink, nearly in one go. 

“Shall we play a game!” Louis calls, and something in Calum’s stomach flips because Louis’ drinking games always end the same way; someone’s dick getting sucked, usually his own. 

“Awe, no, Lou.” Zayn complains, but they all see right through it; Zayn’s as horny as the rest of them (Calum eyes the way Zayn glances at Liam hungrily for a moment). 

“I’m game.” Calum says in return. 

Lou looks pleased as punch, and Liam takes another deep swallow of his cup. 

Two more cups of the pink drink later, Calum is sitting in a haphazard circle of five other relatively drunk boys, all giggling and half-naked. There’s a pile of cards sitting in the middle, and since none of them really know how to play poker, they’ve been playing strip-go-fish, and at this point, it’s clear to see who is losing. 

Even if Louis is trying his absolute hardest to be completely nude, Harry is just  _ not  _ very good at go-fish, and is down to one sock and his boxers, much to Louis’ pleasure. They’ve finally taken a break, Louis too busy fawning over Harry’s body to really care enough to motivate everyone to continue. Calum is happily buzzed, laying on the ground next to Niall and his too-warm skin. He’s pretty that’s his phone ringing somewhere, but is far too lazy and far too interested in Niall’s humming to fetch it. 

“Is that Hannah Montana?” He asks Niall with a giggle, about 90% he’s humming “Best of Both Worlds.”

“Her best work, I think.” Niall laughs explosively. 

Calum likes Niall. Always has. He’s funny and happy almost all the time, which is such…such a change from what he deals with at home, negativity and darkness and the feeling of  _ never  _ being good enough. One smile from Niall is usually all it takes for Calum to forget everything he hates about himself, even if only for a few moments. 

Positivity like that...Calum hasn’t felt it since Australia…hasn’t felt it since Ashton. 

“I think…” Calum hiccups, looking over at Niall and ignoring the sounds of Louis attacking Harry’s mouth. “I think I would kiss you if I was given the opportunity.” 

Niall looks at Calum with a serious expression for a moment before a smile practically splits his face in half. 

“You think so?” He chuckles. He sits up and pinches Calum’s cheek. “Let’s see...you’re definitely cute enough. Straighten yourself out, and we’ll talk.” 

Then he laughs like a maniac; like he just said the funniest thing known to man. For some reason, even though Calum knows he just got rejected, happiness courses through him like warm honey. He laughs too, and bats Niall’s hand away. 

“Calum, Jesus!” Liam complains, throwing Calum’s phone at him. 

Calum rolls his eyes, but picks it up regardless with the intent to silence Kiernan’s relentless calls. Instead of Kiernan, though, it’s the fucking LA number that he’s been thinking about for weeks. 

Calum’s drunk, ok? He’s drunk and vulnerable and missing home and so when he presses the green button, he doesn’t feel as guilty as he should. 

“Hello?” He says, trepidation clear in his tone. 

His heart pounds against his chest as the silence that comes afterwards grows louder and louder until the person on the other end breaks it. 

“Calum.” 

Calum’s hands are shaking and his mouth is dry and he’s got no pants on and he’s... _ drunk _ . Nothing comes out of his mouth even though he must of thought of a thousand things he’s wanted to say to Ashton over the last two years. 

“Calum?” Ashton says again,  _ just  _ the way Calum remembered... _ just  _ the way Calum had dreamed. He opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes out except a choked sound. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes.” Calum says, heart half-melted because Ashton has always been that way, always the first to ask if everything is okay...especially when things aren’t. “Yes, I’m...I’m good.” 

“Who’s that, then?” Louis yells, finally away from Harry. “We all know you don’t blush like that when Kiernan calls!” 

Calum wishes he could die on the spot up until the second Ashton chuckles. Even if it’s mildly uncomfortable and is a thousand miles away, that laugh...god, that laughs touches him right where it hurts the most, and Calum has to fight every instinct in his body that tells him to cry. 

“Your friends sound quite lovely.” Ashton says, amusement still clear in his tone. 

“Louis’...Louis’ not my friend.” He says loudly, mostly to Louis. “Louis is a twat.” 

Ashton’s laugh is more pronounced this time, bright and beautiful as it used to be. 

“Not a thing changed about, Calum, always thinking your friends are twats.” He comments. 

“That’s because they usually are.” 

“Now, you’re right about that.” 

The silence is cool and easy, something Calum did not expect. He didn’t expect it to feel natural when the silence between them has been so long-standing and forced. Calum swallows again and Louis is back to kissing Harry and Niall’s fingers are gently wrapping around his ankle from his spot on the floor. 

“So, Calum, I just-”

“Sorry.” Calum says quickly, suddenly too-full of adrenaline. “I’m sorry, Ashton.” 

There’s a pause. 

“Sorry for what?” 

Ashton’s voice is a bit distorted from the phone, him being so far away, but Calum can still hear the tension there. Couldn’t miss it even if he wasn’t waiting for it. 

“I’m sorry...for everything.” He gasps out. He bites his lip, guilt hitting him square in the chest. He shouldn’t be doing this; he has a boyfriend, one that needs him. One that will be livid if he finds out that Calum is speaking to the only person on the Earth he’s ever truly loved. “I’m super drunk, ignore me. Look, I have to go, but, um-”

He sputters, and Ashton is still silent. 

“I think about you all the time, too.”

 

-

 

Two weeks before Christmas, Calum’s got a sprained wrist from Kiernan grabbing a cigarette out of his hand. 

Calum hasn’t spoken to any of his friends since he came home completely smashed from Louis’ party and broke a Very Expensive vase that he, if he’s honest, didn’t even know they owned, and Kiernan destroyed his phone in blind fury. As he picked up the pieces, all Calum could think was how grateful he was that it had been his phone and not his face. Aside from that, though, Kiernan absolutely refused to let Calum see any of the five of them again, even Liam, who he’d once called “the only sensible person you’ve ever associated with.” 

Calum remembers thinking,  _ that includes you _ , but knew better than to say it outloud. 

Kiernan has friends over and is sufficiently buzzed, with Calum perched on his lap. If any of Kiernan’s mates had any fucking brain cells, they would see how uncomfortable Calum is with the whole situation, but that’s nothing new. When Kiernan requests for Calum to get him another beer, one of them helps himself to a handful of Calum’s backside. 

“Please don’t.” Calum mutters after jumping away. 

“Calum, don’t be such a bitch.” Kiernan calls as he scurries into the kitchen. “Let men be men.” 

As he pulls another beer from the fridge, all Calum can do is scoff about Kiernan’s choice of words. He may not be an expert, but those scumbags are not what he would classify as “men.”

After popping the top, Calum starts his way back to the living room but is stopped temporarily when the doorbell rings. He sets the beer down with a sign of relief that the pizza’s finally here; Kiernan is nearly insufferable when he’s drunk and hasn’t eaten anything. 

He shuffles to the door, reaching for his wallet as he grips the handle and turns it. 

“Hey, so I’ve only got a twenty, but-”

The words die on his tongue, because that...that is  _ not  _ the pizza guy. 

Dear god, Calum nearly collapses, but all Ashton does is smile in that easy way of his that threatens to shatter Calum into a million tiny pieces. 

“I didn’t know prostitution was legal here.” He says with an easy smile. Calum gapes at him because...good lord. 

His cheeks are flushed red from the cold in a way Calum’s _never_ seen before, and he thought he’d seen every way Ashton _could_ look, and his hair is literally wind-blown and there are snowflakes still settled on his eyelashes, and _jesus christ,_ Calum wants to _kiss_ him. 

“Ashton.” He gasps out, his heart pounding so hard, he tastes copper on his tongue. 

Ashton bites his lip and at least has the decency to look sheepish as he paws the floor with the toe of his boot. 

“A bit unexpected, I know.” 

“A bit?” Calum questions, still shell-shocked and holding the door wide open. “Ashton, god, I-”

“Calum, are you coming or not!” Kiernan calls from inside, and it would take a much stronger will than Calum has to not flinch at the tone of voice. 

Ashton notices it, Calum can see it on his face, but...he doesn’t have time to deal with that right now. 

“Just-” Calum’s voice is a whisper. He clears his throat. “Just a second!” 

Calum opens the door wider and allows Ashton in. 

“Just wait here a second, okay?” He says, his fingers, almost out of habit, brushing the edge of Ashton’s hip bone. “Give me a minute.” 

Ashton nods, and starts to unzip his coat while Calum fetches the beer he set down and hurries to the living room to hand the bottle to his boyfriend. 

“Thank you, love.” Kiernan says. “Maybe don’t take ten years next time, alright?” 

“Sure, sorry.” Calum says with a nervous smile. Kiernan was too drunk to hear the doorbell ring. “Look, I’m feeling a bit tired, I’m going to lay down for a few minutes.” 

It’s clear Kiernan wants to argue, but Calum doesn’t give him the chance, he’s out of the living room before Kiernan can even open his mouth to say anything else. 

“Calum, if now’s not-” Ashton starts to say but stops when Calum grabs him by the hand with his good hands and drags him into the bedroom, shutting the door before Kiernan can see. He turns to the Aussie afterwards, his back pressed to the door. 

“How did you find me?” He asks, sounding far more accusing than he was going for. 

Ashton shifts from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable and surprised by Calum’s off behavior. 

“Luke and Michael sent me your address.” He explains. “They’ve been in touch. And look, I was going to call, but every time I did, it went straight to voicemail.” 

“Yeah, I put my phone in the washer by mistake about a month ago.” Calum explains nervously. 

“Oh.” Ashton says simply. He looks back at the floor. “I thought that maybe you...didn’t want to hear from me, and I think...I think it’s time you did.” 

Calum lifts an eyebrow, so Ashton continues. 

“It’s been a long time since we’ve spoken, Cal.” He says lightly. 

“Yeah, it has.” Calum agrees, refusing to look at Ashton or those stupid hazel eyes he wants so badly to hate. “But that doesn’t mean you can just barge in on my life.” 

“I didn’t think that you would describe that as ‘barging.’” Ashton says defensively. “I don’t mean to cause trouble. If you really don’t want me here, then I’ll go.” 

Calum blinks blankly. He didn’t expect Ashton to back down so easily. He rarely wins arguments these days...he had expected much more resistance. 

“That’s...I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I’m just surprised that you’re here. It feels like I’m in a dream.” 

“Do you dream of me often?” Ashton asks teasingly, a smirk on his lips. 

“Yes.” Calum says simply, unhindered and honest. 

Ashton’s face is suddenly a lot more sober. 

“Oh.” He says before clearing his throat. “Well...I’m gonna be in town for a few days. I’ve got some stuff to do in the city, but I’d really like to catch up, and, um, maybe clarify some things.” 

“Ashton, it’s been two years.” Calum says, his voice suddenly choked. His wrist throbs and he feels like he’s going to be sick. “ _ Two years _ .” 

“I know.” Ashton says, and then he’s there, like Calum always imagined, standing in Calum’s space and touching his face. “Look at me, I know.” 

Calum can see what he means; he can see the way time has taken a toll on Ashton, can see how when he left, he must have taken with him something that Ashton could never find again. 

Then, Calum hears Kiernan laugh in the living room and remembers himself. 

“I can’t...I can’t do this right now, Ash.” He says with regret. Ashton nods and stops touching him. “I have...I live with my boyfriend.” 

Calum sees the exact moment Ashton’s face falls, but hardly has time to feel guilty about it because he can suddenly hear Kiernan getting up while telling his friends, “Just going to check on Calum really quickly, give me a second.” 

“Oh shit.” Calum mutters, quickly pulling Ashton to the closet and shoving him inside. “I’m sorry, just  _ please  _ be quiet.” 

Then, after shutting the door, Calum throws himself into the blankets and does his best to pretend he’s asleep in the few precious seconds he has before Kiernan opens the door. His older boyfriend comes in, checks to see if Calum is still breathing, and then leaves again, causing Calum to let out an extremely relieved breath when he hears the door shut. He then gets up and lets Ashton out with an apologetic look on his face. 

“Do I even  _ want  _ to know?” Ashton asks, and Calum shakes his head. 

“It’s a long story.” He says. “But, the bottom line is...he can’t know that you’re here.” 

Ashton clearly wants to know what is going on but is smart enough to not ask. 

“Alright.” 

Calum walks him back to the door quickly so Kiernan won’t see them, and watches carefully as Ashton pulls his coat back around himself. 

“It’s freezing here.” 

“Well, it’s not Oz.” Calum says with a small smile. “Or Los Angeles.” 

Ashton gives Calum a tiny but sorry look. 

“I had to leave after you did. There was nothing left without you.” 

Calum tries not to let those words shred him to pieces and opens the door for Ashton. 

“Where’re you staying?” 

Ashton gives him the address and Calum nods. 

“I’ll stop by around noon tomorrow?” 

Ashton nods. 

“‘Kay.” 

They stare at each other a moment. 

“Well, be care-”

“Um, is this 345?” 

Calum looks around Ashton at the poor kid who’s delivering the pizza, who looks quite confused. 

“It is.” Ashton laughs, backing out of the way. He winks at Calum as he goes to leave. “See you tomorrow.” 

“Yeah,” Calum says mindlessly, watching him walk away. “Tomorrow.”

Calum continues to stare until the pizza kid lets out a low whistle. 

“That,” He says, pointing down the hall once Ashton retreat. “It what I would  _ define  _ as sexual tension.” 

Calum scowls at him, but forks over the money for the pizza with a generous tip. 

“Seriously, man,” The pizza kids says, taking the tip with a large grin. “Screw that guy or something. I’m about to suffocate.” 

“Get lost.” Calum says instead of nodding in agreement. The kid leaves with a nod and a Cheshire grin. 

With an eye roll, Calum takes the pizza back in and shuts the door, already nervous for what tomorrow holds. 


	3. Chapter 3

“How did you say that happened?” 

Calum glances at Ashton through his eyelashes, and, after swallowing a mouthful, follows the other man’s gaze to the gauze on his wrist. 

“Bit embarrassing really.” He says instead of answering. “Not sure I’d like to tell you.” 

“Well, I’m sure I’d like to know.” Ashton retorts. 

Calum sighs and sets down his fork. 

“Got angry at the copier the other day and decided to challenge it to a fight.” He says, then adds on sheepishly. “It won.” 

“Why am I not surprised, even a little?” Ashton laughs, wiping his mouth with a napkin and leaning back in his chair. 

There was something about him...something he’d always had but was stronger now, or maybe it was just more apparent to Calum. Something about Ashton suggested an air of authority, kind of like Kiernan, but it was decidedly different; Ashton was strong and charming but he was sweet too, guiding almost. Calum, for whatever vague reason his mind could supply, liked that about him. 

“Some things may never change, I suppose.” Calum shrugs. 

A part of him wonders why he’s lying to Ashton about how he got hurt; he also lied to him this morning when he asked why Calum was limping. Was he not telling the truth because he knew what Ashton would do? Or maybe it was because he didn’t want Ashton to know how poorly his life had been going since they split up. 

Mostly, Calum had just gotten so used to running from the truth that saying it now seemed all but impossible. But, part of him thought, if he were to ever come clean about what Kiernan’s doing to him, Ashton would be the first to know. 

Of course he would. 

“So you and this lad-”

“Kiernan.” Calum fills in. 

“Sure.” Ashton agrees. “How long have you been together?” 

“A year and half?” Calum says, unsure. “I’m not entirely sure. We had our one year a little while ago. It’s been a long time; the days sort of blend together.” 

Ashton raises an eyebrow at that last comment. 

“What does he do?”

“He’s a manager of an accounting branch at a law firm here.” Calum answers, chewing his bottom lip. 

“Wow, that sounds prestigious.” 

“Yes, he thinks so too.” Calum laughs, only a little bitterly. 

“You don’t?” 

“He’s busy a lot. If it was really so prestigious, he wouldn’t be so pissed off all the time.” 

Calum promptly wishes someone had cut his stupid tongue out long ago. Why would he say that? Ashton would be able to see through that even if he didn’t have his glasses on, or even if he didn’t have bloody eyes. 

“He gets angry easily, then?” Ashton guesses. 

“So what have you been doing?” Calum asks, hopefully casual enough to fool Ashton. 

Who is he kidding. 

“I’m a consultant for a label in LA.” He says. “Basically I fly back and forth from LA to New York to here and back again, checking in. It’s quite monotonous, but I get to travel, which, you know, we always talked about.” 

Calum raises his eyebrows for more reasons than one. 

“How the fuck did you swing that?” 

“Pure luck.” Ashton answers. “That’s the only way I can explain it.”

Calum smiles, of course he does, because this is  _ Ashton  _ who always worked twice as hard at everything than any of the rest of them. If anyone from back home deserved this, it was him. 

Of course, he’s a little bitter, because none of that luck Ashton had experienced had  _ ever  _ graced him, and that’s why he’s in this shithole situation now. 

“Well, that’s fucking awesome, Ashton, I’m serious.” He says, honestly. “I’m so happy for you.” 

If it had been anyone else saying that, Ashton might punch them for the sarcasm, but it’s  _ Calum _ , who has been nothing but genuine for Ashton since they first met. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty insane, honestly. America is wonderful. I do miss home quite a bit, though.” He admits. 

“I understand that feeling.” Calum answers, pushing his potatoes around his plate without any conviction. Ashton watches him with fond eyes, which is so different from Kiernan who would have snapped at Calum to stop playing with his food. 

“Well,” Ashton says some time later, handing the waiter the check; he had let Calum split it with him, much to Calum’s relief. “This has been lovely.” 

Calum half-smiles, eyes glued to the tattoo of the tally marks on Ashton’s wrist. Their day had been filled with catching up with everything; Calum had taken Ashton to the park and they had sipped hot chocolate while Calum described his job and how he met Kiernan. It had felt...good, to sit with Ashton in the cold weather and not have to worry if what he was going to say was the wrong thing or not. And if it was a little hard to look Ashton in the eyes out of habit, then Ashton was kind enough to leave it unsaid. 

But now, as the sky grew darker outside and their plates sat empty, Calum wondered if maybe a little too much had been left that way. 

It feels like both of them have been skirting around something important while relearning each other, like eating only the crust of a pizza. And the words Calum had been dreaming of speaking to Ashton since he was sixteen are suddenly scratching at his throat and the lights are so soft on Ashton’s skin...Calum feels like he needs to step outside for a moment. 

“Calum?” 

Calum clears his throat and locks eyes with Ashton. His lips part on their own, and Calum is forced to bite down to get them to close again. His breath is coming too fast, and Ashton is too close but honestly, it feels like he’s never been farther away. All they’ve done is redraw the lines of their boundaries and all Ashton did by coming here was renew a pain that had just stopped being raw for Calum. 

Seeing those stupid hazel eyes and those gentle hands that would  _ never  _ come near Calum...it’s only doubled every hurt he ever felt in regards to their relationship, and so many things... so many things went wrong and so many mistakes were made and there were so many words the two of them had never gotten the chance to say to each other. 

And now, Calum wanted to say them. 

He wanted to say everything that had even crossed his mind in regard to Ashton. He wanted to explain how when Ashton said that their relationship had to be over, the only  _ reasonable  _ response he could conceive was to run away from home. He wanted to explain how he’d thought of Ashton  _ every  _ day since and had punished himself for it by subjecting himself to a love he, deep down, always knew wasn’t real and was a piss-poor replacement. 

“Oh, Jesus.” Calum wheezes out. He has to grip the table to ground himself, and Ashton automatically reaches across and gently encases his non-injured wrist. 

“Calum, honey, what’s wrong?” 

Calum squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to think about how good it feels for Ashton to touch him again. 

“Did you eat something bad?” Ashton asks, worried but calm. “Do I need to call someone?” 

“No.” Calum wheezes out. 

The waiter brings their check back, and while Ashton thanks him, he takes a deep gulp of water. 

“Care to tell me what the hell is going on?” Ashton asks, not unkindly. 

“I just…” He coughs. “I’m sorry, I know that I’m shit at communicating. Kiernan complains about it constantly.”

“No, it’s okay. Just take your time.” Ashton reassures. 

“I just feel like I have so much to say to you.” He gasps out eventually. “And I will never be able to put into words the way seeing you again makes me feel. I will never be able to tell you how much I crave to do things over.” 

“Calum-” 

“And I know that the way I reacted to everything was the most  _ immature  _ way a person can react. And it was so long ago, but I...I struggled to understand the concept of a life in Sydney without you in it. So I...I had to start a new life in a new place with someone new.” Calum says, quickly. Tears burn at his eyes and he commands them not to fall until he’s finished. “And Kiernan’s love has never  _ felt  _ like yours, and I understand that I did all of this to myself, but I still think about you and I think about home every single day and I think about how much it hurts to not have you next to me, to not breathe you in every fucking second. I think about how you’re across the world and how beautiful you are inside and out and maybe I don’t have the right to say those things anymore because this was  _ my  _ choice, but, God, Ashton, I just...oh my god, I can’t fucking  _ breathe  _ some days I miss you so terribly.” 

He snaps his mouth shut, his chest moving up and down frantically, and for Christ sake, they’re in fucking public, and Calum half expects Ashton to hit him for being so fucking  _ dense. _

But, Ashton  _ isn’t  _ Kiernan. Ashton is love and light and understanding and Calum knows that Ashton would die a thousand times over before even thinking of laying a finger on him. Ashton just turns Calum’s wrist over and strokes the skin there in soft movements, and stares at Calum like he isn’t even  _ real _ . 

“I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.” Ashton says, and even though it’s nowhere  _ near  _ the caliber Calum stated his words with, it still threatens to destroy Calum because even after everything...Ashton missed him,  _ too _ . 

“Can we leave now?” He gasps out, seconds away from hyperventilating. 

“Yes.” Ashton answers with a smile, getting up and helping Calum with his coat. 

As they walk back to the apartment, they walk too close; Calum can smell Ashton’s detergent from his coat and counts his steps even when the Christmas lights shine in his eyes. Ashton keeps glancing at Calum out of the corner of his eye, as if checking he’s still there, and if Calum’s being honest, it’s not unwarranted. 

He  _ has  _ disappeared before. 

Kiernan is out of town on a business trip, if Calum can really be that lucky, and it’s a good thing, too. 

Because Ashton  _ isn’t  _ quiet when he shoves Calum against the wall of his bedroom. He doesn’t try to keep the volume down as he grips Calum’s neck and presses his mouth against the younger boy’s, hot and heavy and  _ everything  _ Calum has been waiting for. 

In the back of his mind, Calum knows that this is wrong. 

He has a long-term boyfriend, for fuck’s sake, and one that will be angry if he finds out, but there’s something deeper in Calum that really struggles to find reason to care. 

“Fuck.” He mutters, his hands grabbing at Ashton’s hair, simultaneously grounding himself and giving Ashton permission to continue. 

“Kiernan?” Ashton gasps, pressing his nose hotly to Calum’s neck. 

“Business trip.” Calum says, shaking his head and pulling Ashton closer. 

“That’s not what I meant, you know that.” Ashton chastises, but Calum’s having a hard time focusing with Ashton’s teeth lodged in his throat. 

“No.” Calum finally gets out, his voice coming in pants.  “No, Ash,  _ please _ .”

Ashton seems to enjoy the fact that Calum is  _ begging  _ for him, so he takes it upon himself to reseal their mouths. He kisses like he used to; all power and guidance, letting Calum ease his lips apart with gentle prodding from his tongue. Calum can taste the wine he drank on his tongue, but he doesn’t care, just keeps yanking at Ashton’s curls, trying to pull him impossibly closer. 

Finally Ashton lets his hands fall from Calum’s face and grabs his hips, pushing the smaller lad up the wall so Calum has no choice but to wrap his legs around Ashton’s waist. Ashton is a lot stronger than Calum remembers, and it does nothing but send sparks of arousal down his spine. 

“You taste the same.” Ashton mutters, just barely loud enough for Calum to hear over the rush of blood in his ears. 

“God, that’s sexy.” Calum moans, pressing his chest flush against Ashton’s. He bites down on his lip and touches Ashton’s jaw, making the older boy look him in the eye. Hazel...hazel eyes full of pain and lust and love and Calum swears that looking into those eyes is like looking into the sun and stars at one time. “Ashton.” 

“Yes, baby?” Ashton asks, looking a little concerned. His hands, gripping Calum’s hips, ease a little bit. “Am I hurting you? Do we need to stop?” 

Calum nearly  _ melts  _ in Ashton’s warm hands because, jesus christ, no one has asked him if they’re hurting him or god forbid if they should stop in this situation since...god, since  _ Ashton _ . 

“No.” Calum says, his face splitting into a grin. He levels his gaze with Ashton’s. “Please fuck me?” 

“Is that a question or a demand?” Ashton teases, brushing some hair from Calum’s eyes in an intimate manner. Calum shakes his head. 

“How are you even  _ real _ ?” He questions. “Are  _ you _ ? Am I dreaming?” 

“Does this feel like a dream, baby?” Ashton asks, pressing hot lips to warm skin and pushing the heel of his hand to Calum’s cock, making the boy whimper and writhe. 

“N-No, sir.” Calum whimpers. Ashton lets out a low hum, continuing to touch the younger boy sweetly. 

“I like that.” He says quietly. “Say it again.” 

“Sir?” 

Ashton nods. 

“I will.” Calum confirms. “Just-”

“Again.” Ashton says quietly, but intently. 

“Yes, sir.” Calum indulges. He can almost  _ see  _ the way Ashton’s pupils dilate, even in the darkness of the room. 

“There’s a good lad.” Ashton practically purrs before spinning them around, without letting Calum’s feet touch the ground, and laying him down on the bed. “Do you know how  _ long  _ I’ve waited to see you like this, Calum? All flushed and gorgeous.” 

Calum just flushes harder and shakes his head. 

“ _ Too  _ long.” Ashton clarifies. His large hands are coming and pulling Calm’s button-up shirt from where it was tucked in and is then laboriously undoing each bloody button. He gets halfway done before Calum just pulls the material off and tosses it somewhere before sitting up and capturing Ashton’s mouth while his own hands work at the skin just above Ashton’s waist line under his shirt.  

“How do you want it?” Ashton asks between kisses. His huge hands trace Calum’s sides in a familiar way. 

Calum can taste the guilt in his mouth, but swallows it down before answering. 

“I don’t care.” He gasps, nearly ripping Ashton’s shirt in his haste to remove it. “I just want to see your face.” 

“Of course, honey.” Ashton promises, pressing the sweetest of kisses to the underside of Calum’s jaw. He presses Calum down to the bed next, making the younger boy keep still with kisses cemented on the center of his chest. 

“Please, Ashton, don’t.” Calum begs, suddenly remembering the bruises on his hips. He tries to sit up, but Ashton’s hand is large and firm as he presses him back, shaking his head. 

“No.” He says simply, gentle but insistent in the way that Calum couldn’t argue with him even if he wanted to. “You won’t deny me this, not after running away from home.” 

Ashton could have slapped him and it would have surprised and shocked Calum less. Slightly numb from such a stinging comment, Calum’s mouth just gapes while he nods his assent. 

Ashton smiles and unbuttons Calum’s too-tight jeans before peeling them off and setting them on the ground. Sitting between Calum’s legs, Ashton’s long fingers gently touch Calum’s yellowed hip bones while the younger boy hides his face in the crook of his elbow. 

“Calum, honey, it’s alright. Look at me.” Ashton coaxes. Calum does as he asks, biting down on his lip. 

Ashton’s eyebrows are furrowed, but his eyes are soft, and so is the kiss he presses to Calum’s cheek. 

“It’s fine.” He promises, and, too late, Calum realizes that Ashton probably just thinks he and Kiernan get rough in the bedroom, which is. Good for Calum. He thinks. “I’m not going to do that to you.” 

“I know.” Calum agrees quickly. “I know you wouldn’t.” 

“I don’t want you to think about him.” 

“I couldn’t.” Calum promises. “I…” He trails off as Ashton dips down to also strip Calum of his boxers. 

“Tell me.” Ashton prods, finally grabbing Calum’s length and giving it a sweet stroke. 

“I had trouble thinking of him when we did this.” He admits, his breathing labored. 

Ashton gives Calum a devilish smirk. 

“What did you think of?” He asks, mockingly innocent before taking Calum’s cock down his throat. 

Calum chuckles breathlessly. 

“More of a ‘who’ did I think of.” He amends, his fingers digging into the sheets to keep from grabbing anything he shouldn’t. 

“Then who?” 

“C’mon, Ash, you know. You must know.” Calum practically whines, pushing his hips up just a little to encourage Ashton to continue. But, Ashton just smiles and presses Calum’s hips back down and stares him down. 

“I want to hear you say it.” 

“You.” He says, his breath practically punched from his lungs. “You have to know...Ashton-”

Calum is suddenly pulling at Ashton’s curls, prying his mouth away from the hollow of his hip bones and kissing him, his long fingers twisting locks of hair around them. 

Their kiss this time isn’t gentle, and it’s not steaming like their one against the wall was. The kiss this time around is  _ biting  _ and desperate as Ashton claws at Calum’s forearms, tugging him impossibly closer, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Listen to me.” Calum breathes between fervid kisses. “Listen, Ashton. You have to know that I’ve  _ only  _ thought of you since that...since the first time. It was impossible to think of anyone else.” 

“Good.” Ashton growls, pressing them back together too forcefully. 

Calum may be knocked around by his boyfriend, but he can rise to Ashton’s challenge...he knows Ashton will  _ never  _ go too far the way Kiernan had a hundred times before. 

He shoves Ashton back on the bed and continues to kiss him, his hands encasing Ashton’s razor-sharp jawline. He knows he starting to turn a little primal, his bare hips humping at Ashton’s jean-covered ones like a bitch in heat, but he doesn’t care. 

He doesn’t. 

It’s been so  _ long  _ since he felt Ashton...since he touched him...since he  _ had  _ him. 

In fact, Calum had been growing numb for so long that for a while, there was a deep fear inside of him that he would never feel  _ again _ , and then Ashton...Ashton showed up and all that frost that had been gathering on Calum’s insides was suddenly melted away by every and any metaphorical light the older boy so selflessly provided. 

“Fuck me.” Calum begs, even though Ashton isn’t holding anything back, Calum can feel that much. “I need to feel you inside of me again.” 

“I’ll make you forget, sweetheart.” 

“Please.” Calum assures. 

“I’ll make you forget what I did to you.” Ashton kisses him, but then Calum has to break away to grab the lube from the bed stand that’s too full - too many nights of Kiernan not caring enough to use it. He pours a generous amount into his hand and then, not caring about it dripping down his wrist and onto Ashton’s probably-expensive jeans, circles his two middle fingers around his hole. 

Ashton looks up at him like he’s all he’s ever wanted, his eyes beautifully wide and cheeks rosily flushed. His huge hands encase Calum’s hips in a soft, but firm way that practically makes Calum’s head spin, because even after all this time, Ashton is still gentle with him. 

Calum pushes his first finger in and whines, standing up on his knees and arching his back.

Even though his eyes squeeze shut, Calum can sense the hitch in Ashton’s breath and feels his cock throb beneath him. 

Calum forgot how good it can feel to please another person.

“I’ll make you forget what you did to yourself.” Ashton mutters, long fingers trailing down the lines of Calum’s stomach slowly, like he’s tracing him into memory. 

Calum likes that idea. 

He presses another finger inside and Ashton somehow wiggles his jeans and boxers off. The older boy hisses when a stray drop of lube falls from Calum’s  _ dripping  _ hand and onto his throbbing cock. Calum starts to lose himself a little bit, his breath coming harder and his eyes half-closing as he pushes his fingers into himself faster and faster, Ashton’s eyes on him the only fucking motivation he needs. 

“Condoms,” He pants. “In the drawer.” 

Ashton is quick to follow Calum’s directions, grabbing the purple-wrapped object and ripping it open with his teeth. Calum watches him hungrily as he rolls it down his expansive length, giving himself a few stray strokes to take the edge off. 

Calum slips a third finger in, tossing his head back at the feeling of being stretched to a new point. He rarely uses more than two fingers, but...Ashton’s made him feel a deep hunger that can only be filled by literally being filled, and maybe Calum should be worried about how animalistic he is suddenly, but he really can’t be bothered to think of anything other than his true love in front of him. 

“‘M ready, please.” He whimpers, sitting down harshly on his own fingers. 

“C’mon, honey.” Ashton demands. 

“Yes sir.” Calum nods. He reaches down, and grabs Ashton’s cock, holding it steady before he sinks down on it. 

“Don’t worry.” Ashton says, sitting up a little to kiss the inside of Calum’s tanned thigh. “I’ll make you forget everything he did to you.” 

Calum doesn’t have time or energy to worry about what Ashton just said because he’s pressing himself down on the older boy’s length, color starbursting behind eyelids at the long-awaited sensation. 

“Good.” Ashton purrs. “Good boy.” 

Calum breathes hard through his nose, keeping his eyes shut until he’s used to the feeling of being stretched...the feeling of knowing he did something right for what feels like the first time in months. 

“Oh god.” Calum whispers, biting down on his lower lip in an effort to control all the different emotions he’s experiencing right now. 

“Up.” Ashton reminds. “God, you’re just as beautiful.” 

“As when?” Calum laughs, lifting his body up by his knees. 

“As the day I first fucking laid eyes on you.” He returns, his thumbs pressing against the divots of Calum’s hips. “All this deep skin, the smooth muscle, and god...these  _ thighs _ , Calum. I want to  _ cover  _ them in marks.”

“You like my thighs?” Calum asks with mischief in his voice. He lifts up and slams back down again, guided by Ashton’s hands. 

“Love them.” 

Calum closes his eyes for a moment, tipping his head back while he savors the feeling of Ashton inside of him. 

“And don’t even get me started on this ass.” Ashton says, almost like an afterthought, while his fingers dig savagely into the mentioned flesh. Calum groans at the aggressive touch, and rewards Ashton by grinding his hips forwards and backward in quick succession. 

“I’m beginning to think-” Calum breaks off to catch his breath. “That you only want me for my body.” 

Ashton scoffs, and starts working his hips upwards to meet Calum’s movements. 

“You think,” Ashton jabs his hips up hard enough to shock a moan out of Calum. “That I would fly across the world and show up unexpectedly at your door and be a mistress to a man who’s spoken for...for a booty call? You must know better.” 

Calum just smirks as an answer, his hands resting flat on Ashton’s strong chest, and throwing his body down harder than before, working for it. 

“Good lad, Calum.” Ashton praises, his voice a bit choked, his hands firm on Calum’s body. “That’s it.” 

Calum’s hands are firm on Ashton, shamelessly using him as leverage, his eye squeezed completely shut. He starts to whimper, biting down on his bottom lip as Ashton’s cock hits the sweet spot inside him, just once, a fleeting touch, but enough to drive Calum half out of his mind. 

“Again.” He begs. “Hit that spot again.” 

“What do you say?” Ashton prods. 

“Please.” Calum clarifies. “Please, sir.” 

“Good.” Ashton assures, then angles his hips again to hit that spot inside Calum that makes him see stars. 

No matter how good Ashton seems to be, he only manages to touch that spot one every five times he thrusts in, and, as he comes closer and closer, his accuracy gets worse. Calum really doesn’t mind because his fingers are digging into Ashton’s muscle and his voice is cracking as he moans desperately, his thighs starting to burn from the exertion it takes. 

“How do you feel?” Ashton pants, his movements becoming sloppy. 

“Unreal.” Calum answers back. “Like heaven.” 

“I’m close, honey.” Ashton states, his eyes locking on Calum’s face. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

“Don’t cum in the condom.” Calum asks, stilling for long enough to climb off of Ashton. 

“What?” 

Calum answers him by crawling down in between Ashton’s legs, and pulling the condom off, tossing it to the side and wrapping his hand around Ashton’s cock. 

“My face, please.” He asks before starting to stroke him. 

“Alright.” Ashton says. He knocks Calum’s hand away and works himself, biting his lip as he brings himself to the edge. While Calum watches, he brings his own hand to his throbbing cock and rubs it desperately, his mouth hanging open. 

“Close your eyes, babe, I’m gonna-”

Calum barely has time to do as Ashton asks before the older boy is letting out a broken sound and is cumming, ropes of it landing across Calum’s cheeks and eyelashes. He shudders, stroking himself through it, and Calum lets out a heavy breath, still jacking off and licking the cum off his lips. 

“Stop.” Ashton demands, and Calum stops. Ashton rolls him onto his back and then straddles his legs, grabbing his cock tightly. “I want to feel you.” 

Calum nods, his face still covered in Ashton’s spunk as said boy strokes him off. Ashton has to pin Calum’s hips down with his hands as the younger boy chases his fists, whimpering and making incoherent noises. 

He finally finishes with a choked cry, his seed dribbling out over Ashton’s fist and onto his own stomach. 

“Oh god.” Calum says as he calms down, forcing himself to knock Ashton’s hand away, oversensitivity making him shake. “So good.” 

“Yeah?” Ashton says with a gentle smile, leaning over him and pressing a kiss to his mouth, tasting his cum on Calum’s tongue. “That good, huh?”

“Better.” Calum promises, kissing back in a softer way, keeping his tongue inside his mouth. 

Ashton pulls away and slides his fingers into Calum’s hair, eyes roaming over his face in a way that makes Calum nervous, looking away. 

“What?” He asks with a blush. 

“Well, first, you still make that face when you finish.” Ashton says softly, then louder, “And you have my cum on your face.” 

Calum scoffs, rolling his eyes and sitting up to push Ashton off of him. 

“Wanker.” 

“You’ve been living here too long, you’re a local.” Ashton calls while Calum moves to the bathroom, grabbing the condom off the floor and disposing of it properly. 

“Funny, Luke and Mikey said almost the exact same thing.” Calum returns, cleaning himself of both Ashton’s finish and his own. He looks up into the mirror, a bit shocked by the state of his flushed face, mussed hair, and bitten lip. He looks at the scar on his collarbone, the one on his hip, and for a moment doesn’t feel the worrying numbness of imperfection he usually does. 

Ashton suddenly appears behind him in the glass, a pair of Calum’s sweatpants sitting low on his hips. He rests his chin on Calum’s shoulder, and his hand comes around to touch the scar with soft fingers. He kisses at Calum’s neck and rubs his hand down the front of his stomach, which would normally make Calum twitch with insecurity hammered into him by Kiernan, but it only makes him feel all fuzzy inside. 

“Come lay with me, will you?” 

“Are those song lyrics?” Calum asks, and Ashton lets out a light laugh. 

Calum follows him back to the bed that he’s shared with Kiernan for two years, laying down on his side and facing Ashton. The older lad strokes his cheek and Calum closes his eyes for a moment to let himself sink into the feeling. 

“I’ve missed seeing you like this.” Ashton comments. “I’ve missed seeing you altogether, but like this especially. How soft and sweet you are after you’ve finished, trusting and sleepy.” 

Calum rolls his eyes and grabs Ashton’s hand to intertwine their fingers. 

“Tell me your fears.” He says, leaning forward to kiss the older boy. 

Ashton’s mouth quirks in a slight smirk before answering. 

“I fear that you’ll never realize how much I care for you. That you’ll never care for me the same, and that you’ll always think of yourself the way Kiernan wants you to.” 

Calum swallows thickly, because sometimes, he fears the same...the bit about Kiernan, anyway. He wants to tell Ashton that, but this relationship isn’t just about him, so he says instead, 

“Want to know my fear?” Ashton nods. “I fear that I will never be able to love anyone other than you.” 

“Really?” Ashton asks, looking unsure for the first time since he’s come to London. Calum nods. 

Calum also fears that Ashton will destroy him again, that he’ll be stuck with Kiernan forever, that Kiernan will ruin himself if Calum leaves, that his parents will never speak to him again, and that Australia won’t be the same if he ever goes back. 

He doesn’t say any of that, and just allows himself to be with Ashton in this moment. 

“And your dreams?” Ashton asks. 

Calum takes a moment to think about that, because he hasn’t thought about what he  _ wants  _ in so long. 

“I want to write music forever. I don’t want to assist anymore.” He says. “I want a dog, and I want a house on the beach. I hate the cold. I want to be seventeen again, and I want to do this all over again. I dream that I can be with you without feeling guilty and without feeling like my heart is being ripped out of my chest. I dream that you’ll never leave and Kiernan will never come back and that I won’t have to worry-”

Calum forces himself to stop, and closes his eyes, feeling hot tears fall down his cheeks. 

“But dreams aren’t realistic, Ashton.” 

“Why not?” He asks. “I’m here. You said you dreamed of me.” 

“I did.” 

“So if this came true, why can’t everything else?” 

“Because I can never live on the beach with my kind of salary, and I can’t just pick up and leave. And you have to go back and Kiernan has to come home, and I can’t leave him.” 

Ashton raises his eyebrows but remains quiet. 

Calum’s breath comes harder as he pushes his tears back. 

“Well,” Ashton says, as Calum’s gets drowsy. “I dream of seeing you everyday when I wake up. I dream of your laugh and of your humor and of your painted nails. I dream of making you happy and of the sun shining on your skin. And I have other dreams too, like changing jobs or drumming again, but all of those other dreams seem far less important.” 

Calum smiles. 

“And I know that some of those dreams, like yours, are unrealistic, I do.” He promises. “But some could be more real than others.” 

Calum gives him a watery smile and a kiss. 

“You’re right. Just let me live this dream today, please.” He says quietly as Ashton pulls him to his chest. “And we can deal with reality later.” 


	4. Chapter 4

In the morning, Calum makes breakfast with Ashton, the older boy frying potatoes in what he calls the “American style,” and Calum cooks eggs sunny-side up. 

They sit down and eat with glasses of orange juice between them and a silence thick like cotton but easy nonetheless. Calum smiles as Ashton moans at the taste of the breakfast, thinking Ashton really hasn’t changed much. 

They shower together, and Calum brings his love off on his knees before the older boy returns the favor, grinning up at Calum with his spunk on his chin. 

“Come back with me.” Ashton says to him at the airport, a serious look on his face. 

Calum laughs, but Ashton just furrows his eyebrows. 

“Why are you laughing?” 

“You can’t be serious, Ash.” Calum says, because honestly, Ashton has always been the logical one of the two, and he should know better than anyone that Calum can’t just…  _ leave _ . 

“I’m completely serious, why is that ridiculous?” He asks with a frown. 

Calum stares at him, lips parted. 

“I have a job here, a boyfriend, a life. I can’t just go.” He says, as if it should be obvious. 

“You can find a job in LA. We could work for the same company. And you said yourself that you hate it here. It’s warm in LA and there are beaches-”

“Ashton.” Calum says, somberly. “I want to go with you, but I just can’t. That’s one dream that isn’t realistic.” 

Ashton squares his jaw. 

“You need to leave Kiernan, Calum.” He says, and Calum suddenly feels defensive. He takes a step back. 

“What do you know about it?” He snaps. “You can’t just come here and think you know better than I do. Despite what you may think, you don’t always know what’s best for me.” 

“It’s not just me who thinks so, Calum.” 

“How can you say that when you know what you did by leaving me?” He says, his voice cold. Ashton’s frown grows deeper and he steps forward. 

“It’s not the same.” 

“What’s different about it?” 

“I was terrified. I had never felt the way I did about you. I was scared of falling in love with you. I was nineteen, what did you expect?” 

“I expected you to think about your actions. You knew it would break me.” He answers. “And that’s what I’m doing now. Leaving Kiernan...it will break him.” 

Ashton’s face is no longer angry, it’s...sad. It’s frustrated...and it breaks Calum a little bit because that’s what Ashton looked like when he said they couldn’t be together anymore...just before this whole nightmare started. 

“I can’t force you to come with me or to do something that will make you happy...to do something good for yourself.” Ashton says in a low voice. He steps forward and cups Calum’s face, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “But staying with him, Calum...it will break you.”

Then he’s leaving, turning from Calum without another word and leaving for the terminal, and Calum...he’s glued to the spot just like he was two years ago. He watches Ashton go, feeling like sand is suddenly slipping through his fingers, and he’s too late and too slow to catch any of it before it hits the floor. 

He made this choice. 

He is the only one responsible for dealing with the fallout. 

So, when Ashton finally disappears from sight, he turns away and leaves the airport, his mouth dry and tears falling down his face. 

Kiernan will be home in a few hours, and Calum has a lot to do at home. He doesn’t have time to feel sorry for himself that his true love just shattered his heart again, and this time...it was no one’s fault but his. 

 

-

 

Luckily for Calum, Kiernan is in good spirits when he comes home. 

His trip was a huge success, and he tells Calum with an excited kiss that he just got a 5% salary raise, which is quite a lot. In addition to this good news, he informs Calum that his doctor recently prescribed him a new medicine to help control his mood swings, and he should be in much better temperments from now on.  

Calum smiles and congratulates Kiernan on all the good things, but his heart really isn’t in it, and he hates to think of why. 

Kiernan apologizes to Calum out of the blue over dinner that night for hitting him before he left, and for saying all those things that made Calum cry. He promises that he’ll be better, that he’s got it under control now that most of the stress is off of him and his medication is different. 

Calum would blow it off, but it sounds fairly genuine, unlike all the other times, and it should make him feel better, but it only worsens his guilt. 

And things are tense for a few days. Calum deals with the nasty feeling building inside of him, knowing Ashton is across the world again, the entire night they spent together nothing but a memory now. He forces himself not to text Ashton, or even think about him, and works desperately hard to get along with Kiernan. Their days and evenings are quiet, and after the second day, Calum starts to feel better, to feel less like he’s walking on eggshells. 

The night Ashton calls, and Calum denies it, he lays in bed and tries not to cry while his body slowly becomes more and more numb. Kiernan comes in and sets a hand on the curve of Calum’s waist, pressing a kiss to his temple and asking him if everything is alright. Calum responds with a nod and by gently draping his fingers over Kiernan’s on his waist. 

The tears fall after he leaves. 

Calum doesn’t think about him, doesn’t think about how Ashton kissed him, or how his huge hands guided Calum when he needed it most. Instead, he thinks about working hard at his job and about how he acts around Kiernan, being meticulous to not wreck the delicate new routine they’ve established. Calum fears one day he’ll say something and Kiernan will suddenly snap. 

But things hold out - Kiernan is patient and sweet and even gives Calum a blowjob after being home for a few weeks. When he tries to go further, Calum is suddenly seeing Ashton’s face instead of his and they have to stop because he goes rigid, letting himself fall into the memory, gilded with gold, and Kiernan, unlike the dozens of times before, stops when he realizes. 

They don’t talk about it, and Calum tries to apologize the next morning with a warm cup of coffee on the nightstand before Kiernan wakes up, Calum sitting nervously at the window seat, arms around his knees and waiting for the rebuke or punishment. 

It never comes. 

There are no harsh words and no bruising grips, and, after about a month, Calum stops waiting for the other shoe to drop. Things are easy, and the absolutely  _ burning  _ pain of being away from Ashton fades a little bit more, day by day, until it’s just a dull, ever-aching throb in his chest. He buries his sorrow in his work and in the effort to keep up things with Kiernan. 

For a while, despite the wreck of a man he is without Ashton, things are okay for Calum. 

Things are good, and there’s nowhere to go but up. 

  
  
  


-

  
  
  


And then, when everything is going so well, their armistice falls apart. 

Calum is sitting on the kitchen counter around 9pm, scrolling through Twitter and eating sweets when Kiernan comes stomping into kitchen. 

“Calum, what the hell?” He asks, and his boyfriend looks up from his phone, sliding off the counter. 

“Sorry.” He says, thinking Kiernan is just mad that he’s sitting on the fixtures when Kiernan has told him countless times not to. 

But that’s not what this is about. 

“I don’t give a fuck if you’re on the counter, Calum, I want you to tell me what’s going on.” 

“What?” Calum asks, completely confused. He sets his phone to the side. 

“I’m going to ask you once, and that’s it.” Kiernan says in a dangerously low voice. “Did you cheat on me?” 

Calum’s mouth falls open and his eyebrows raise in shock. 

“Are you serious?” He asks. “What makes you think-”

“Just answer the fucking question, Calum.” Kiernan snaps, stepping into Calum’s space. “Did you sleep with someone else?” 

“Kiernan,” Calum says, keeping his voice even, trying to calm his boyfriend down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re frightening me.” 

Kiernan’s face changes and in seconds his fist is flying into the drywall about .5 inches from Calum’s face. 

“Did you fuckig cheat on me, Calum!” He demands, and Calum’s resolve shakes. 

“No!” He blurts. “No, I didn’t.” 

“Then what the fuck is this?” He asks, holding up a torn, purple condom wrapper. 

“A condom wrapper?” Calum asks, still scared and still confused how Kiernan could know just from a piece of foil. “The ones we use, I don’t-” 

“Don’t lie to me, Calum.” Kiernan says. “You know you won’t get away with it.” 

“I’m not lying.” 

“I found it under the bed.” 

“So?” 

Kiernan slaps him, hard. 

“So, we haven’t fucked since I came back.” 

Calum feels tears slowly gather in his eyes. 

“Kiernan, please, I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong, did I just not throw it away?” 

“No, you thick moron.” Kiernan snaps. “I cleaned our bedroom the day before I left, even vacuumed under our bed. I would know if it was there. And since we haven’t had sex since I came home, you must have used it with someone who wasn’t me. And unless you’re afraid of getting an STD from yourself, then it wasn’t on you either. So who the fuck was it, Calum?” 

Calum just sputters because he doesn’t have anything to say, doesn’t have an excuse and he knows that he’s fucked. 

“It wasn’t anyone, I just-” 

Kiernan doesn’t like that Calum can’t come up with a comprehensive answer so instead he wraps a hand around Calum’s throat hard enough to bruise and forces him back against a wall. 

“Calum, you tell me the fucking truth, or I swear to god, I’ll-”

He doesn’t - can’t - finish his thought and Calum claws at his hand desperately, but Kiernan has always been stronger than him, even when he isn’t pissed. 

“Was it the fucking Irish one, huh?” He demands. “That little blonde shit?” 

Calum shakes his head, his tears falling quicker and quicker. 

“No, Kiernan, please-” 

Kiernan throws him from the wall to the floor, and Calum coughs desperately, trying to get air back into his lungs. 

“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t notice, Calum?” Kiernan demands. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice that your slutty ass had been used by someone who wasn’t me, even when I made it clear that no one else could have it? What the fuck is wrong with you, am I just not good enough for you? Are you really so slutty that you couldn’t keep it in your pants for two fucking days?” 

“It wasn’t about me being a whore, Kiernan.” Calum tries to explain, tears and asphyxiation making his voice hard. 

“I want to know who it was, Calum. I’m going to fucking kill him.” 

“No.” Calum shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter who it was, it just matters that it happened.” 

Kiernan doesn’t accept that and he pushes Calum back down to the floor, sitting on his chest and nearly crushing his lungs. 

“It’s him or you.” He says, wrapping his hands around his throat again. Calum pushes and struggles and cries but Kiernan doesn’t let up, all the while screaming,  _ tell me, tell me _ . 

“Kiernan.” He chokes, little dots starting to appear in his vision. “Kiernan, you’re killing me, please.”

“Do you know who you belong to, Calum?” Kiernan snaps, finally letting Calum go only to yank him onto his feet. Calum is too weak to stand on his own, but Kiernan just pushes him against the wall and holds him in place by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t you know that I’m the only one who will stoop low enough to love you? If that man really loved you, he would have stayed, don’t you think? Do you ever wonder why they don’t stay, honey, when I did? I hope you know why. Now, I want to know who fucked you, and I want to know now.” 

Calum has only enough strength to shake his head, knowing that it may be the last thing he ever does. 

Kiernan could kill him easily, but by this point, Calum could care less. He’s tired of putting up with it anyway, the constant fear, the pain, and the knowledge that Ashton will never love him again. He just wants to fucking end it. 

He tries to turn himself off as Kiernan starts to hit him, but it’s hard...it’s hard when it just hurts so badly and when Kiernan is throwing him onto the glass coffee table and shattering it, sending shards of broken glass into Calum’s back and hands. And it’s hard when Kiernan manhandles him so hard, he’s  _ sure  _ he hears his arm crack. 

And it’s hard when Calum knows...he knows that this is his fault, and, maybe even worse, that no one is coming to save him. No one in the world will come back for him, because at the end of the day, all he has is Kiernan and the lie of their love and the pain of his hands and every fucking mistake that Calum has made to end himself here. 

And for some reason, the the words Ashton said to him when they were having sex pops into his mind as Kiernan starts to choke him again. 

_ I’ll make you forget everything he did to you. _

And maybe no one is coming to save Calum, and maybe Ashton will never love him again, and maybe Kiernan is out of his mind, but Calum, all of the sudden, knows that he doesn’t deserve this. 

With a strength he didn’t know he had, he’s kicking Kiernan’s legs out from under him and the older man releases him. Calum takes a moment to get his breath back before getting up, and stumbling as quickly as he can out of the apartment, his arm cradled in his hands. He slams the door to the apartment before Kiernan can get through it, and starts banging on the door across the hall. 

Calum feels bad, because their neighbours are a young married couple with a little girl, and she’s going to have to see Calum this way, but the wife opens the door with a terrified expression on her face, and lets Calum in. 

“James...James, the door.” She says quickly, helping Calum into the kitchen, and her husband quickly goes to the door of the apartment, coming nose-to-nose with Kiernan. 

“Let me speak to him, James.” Kiernan snaps. “He’s drunk.” 

“Kiernan.” James says calmly. “Step away from my door please, or I will not hesitate to call the police.” 

“You have no right-”

“I have every right.” He says firmly before shutting the door and locking it. 

“Calum, honey, can you look at me?” 

Calum just shakes his head, tears streaming down his face and his entire body throbbing in pain. He can hardly breathe, but he says over and over, 

“Thank you, thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if…”

“Shh, Calum, it’s alright. He can’t get to you in here.” Shannon, the wife, assures. She touches the side of Calum’s face, and Calum flinches away. 

“Calum, mate, just take deep breaths, don’t try to talk, okay? We’re gonna get you fixed up.” 

Calum echoes a sob, but listens to James, doing as he asks and trying to take deep, hiccupping breaths. 

“Daddy?” 

“Shh, Sara, go back to bed, honey, okay?” 

Their daughter, who turned five a few weeks ago, doesn’t listen to James, and comes further into the kitchen, reaching for one of Calum’s bleeding hands and grabbing two of his fingers. 

“Sara-” Shannon starts, but Calum shakes his head. 

“It’s...it’s alright.” He assures, gripping little Sara’s hand back as best as he can, ignoring the pain from the glass struck in his palm. “Can you...I think I need to go to the hospital, can you call a cab for me?  I don’t think I can drive.” 

“It’s fine, honey.” Shannon assures. “James’ll take you, but you need to calm down a little bit.” 

Calum nods, and the tears come harder, because all Calum wants to do is call Ashton...call him and tell him that Kiernan has been hurting him and that all he wants is to go home with him like Ashton offered a few weeks before. All he wants is to hear Ashton’s voice and to cry into his shirt. 

Calum just wants this to be over. 

He feels numb as James walks him out of the apartment, helping him with his limp. He can hear Kiernan crying inside of their apartment, for hurting Calum or for finding out that Calum cheated on him, Calum doesn’t know. 

He does know that this is his fault, but for the first time in a long time, he can’t find it in himself to feel guilty. 

 

-

 

Calum is discharged from the hospital with bruised ribs, a fractured left arm, and stitches in his back and the palms of his hands. 

Kiernan picks him up outside the hospital, his hands shoved into grey hoodie pockets, his lips bitten raw and eyes deep red. He reaches for Calum when he approaches the car, but Calum flinches back and steps out his reach, carefully inserting himself into the passenger seat. Buckling his seatbelt proves to be an evasive challenge with sliced open fingers and a sensitive back. Kiernan’s presence in the car is marked by his gentle insistence with buckling Calum’s seatbelt for him, much to Calum’s frustration. 

He turns on the car and pulls out of the hospital parking lot, the wheels skidding a few times on the hard-packed snow left from last night’s light snowfall. The silence is thick and Calum can tell that Kiernan is shaking…can tell that he’s shaking himself, being so close to someone who did substantial damage to his person the night prior and many times before that. 

His voice is deep from screaming the night before when he addresses the untouched air between them. 

“I just want you to know that I’m only in this car right now so that we can settle things once and for all.” He says before his confidence leaves him. “I have no intention of staying with someone who hurts me so much.”

“Was never a problem before.” Is all Kiernan has to say, his face stony and grip strong on the wheel. Internally, Calum wonders if he took his medicine this morning. He has a habit of skipping doses when he’s had a fit. 

“It,” Calum winces from the unexpected pain in his ribs when he inhales too hard. “Has  _ always  _ been a problem, let that be clear.” 

The rest of the ride is quiet, expectedly so, and Calum can hardly focus on anything except the pain he’s in; he decided to put off taking his pain meds so that he has a physical reminder of what Kiernan did to him in the hope that it will give him the strength to go through with this conversation. 

When they get home, Calum gets out of the car before Kiernan can help him out and carries his own bag even when Kiernan offers to take it. The stairs are a bitch, but Calum makes it and allows Kiernan to open the door for him because he knows his hands won’t be able to handle turning the key, as pathetic as that sounds. 

“So,” Kiernan says when Calum has taken a seat at the kitchen table, pointedly ignoring the hole in the kitchen wall and the remains of glass leading into the living room. “What exactly would you like to settle?” 

Calum raises an eyebrow. 

“Niall is coming to get me in twenty minutes.” 

“Alright.” 

“Do you even see me?” Calum asks. “Quite frankly, have you ever even see me?” 

Kiernan furrows his eyebrows before he answers, sounding defensive. 

“Of course I see you.” He answers. “You’re my boyfriend. You have brown hair and brown eyes and you have two moles on your right cheek.”

“I also have a black eye and a broken arm and even though you can’t see it, bruised ribs.” Calum points out calmly. “Do you see that?” 

“Yes, I see it.” Kiernan says with a modicum of shame painting his cheeks. “I am sorry.” 

“You’re sorry.” 

“Yes.”

“I have been with you for two years. Two years of insults, forced guilt, threats of abuse, actual abuse, restricted time with my friends, and the lowest self-confidence known to man.” Calum says softly, trying to stay calm and firm. “I have suffered three broken fingers, a sprained wrist, bruised ribs, a broken arm, countless black eyes and bruised hips. I dealt with all the guilt you forced onto me because you couldn’t handle the weight of it yourself. I ran away from home...cut myself off from everyone I love and care about and went through all of that...to be with you.” 

“That’s not fair, Calum. It wasn’t just me.” 

“I understand that a great deal of the blame falls on me, but you knew better.” 

Kiernan is quiet. In the past, Calum has considered his boyfriend to be violent, confused, cruel, immature, and oblivious, but never stupid. 

And guilty. Calum always knew he felt guilty. 

But guilt isn’t a justification. 

“I truly am sorry for everything that I did to you.” Kiernan says softly. “I was...I was confused, you know that. I’ve always had trouble controlling my temper and I know that I took it out on you and it wasn’t okay, but you have to understand-”

“Kiernan.” Calum cuts him off. “I do understand. I know what it does to you and I know that at times you really can’t control yourself. But this...this has gone on too long and too far. You can’t get rid of all of your frustrations by forcing them all on to me. I refuse to be responsible for you anymore. You have to learn to stand for yourself. This is for both of us.” 

“You know what leaving me will do to me.” Kiernan says, looking at Calum with tear-dampened eyes. “Calum...I know that I’m fucked up and you don’t deserve the kind of treatment I give you. But I can change. I can change if you just stay and be patient with me-”

“No, Kiernan.” He says, his voice raising. “I had to go to the fucking hospital because you threw me into a  _ glass table _ . What you’re asking of me...it’s to live through that and just  _ forget  _ it. I can’t just forget it, Kiernan. I can hardly forget the time you burned,  _ scared _ , me with a cigarette in the bathroom. I mean, do you even remember that? What about the time you sliced my hip open and the same glass table I shattered last night? I have a scar from that, too. I know you’ve seen it, you kiss it every time we have sex, or at least the times when you take the time to realize there’s a person under you and not just another hole. This goes far beyond patience. And I’ve been patient for a long, long time, waiting for you to get your act together. This is ridiculous, I can’t stay anymore.” 

Kiernan gapes at him, looking like his world just broke down right before him. 

“And you have no idea what it takes for me to say this to you, after what you did.” He says with a hollow voice.  “You fucking  _ terrify  _ me.” 

“I never meant for any of this, you have to know that. I can change. Things have been better recently, you can admit that, can’t you?” 

Calum thinks back to the month leading up to the blow out and how nice they had been, like soothing aloe to the burns left on Calum’s heart from Ashton coming and going again. He thinks about the soft kisses Kiernan had pressed to his cheeks and the home-cooked meals and the stellar behavior all due to Kiernan’s new meds. He thinks about all this and his confidence wavers. It  _ was  _ a great month for them and Calum  _ had  _ been distant and...the fight, when he thinks about it, really was his fault for cheating on his boyfriend. 

Wow, Calum had  _ cheated  _ on Kiernan, and he has the gall to sit here, and...what? Try to leave? In retrospect, maybe Calum had  _ deserved  _ what Kiernan did to him-

_ I fear that you’ll always think of yourself the way Kiernan wants you to.  _

Ashton’s voice rings clear in Calum’s head, and that, mixed with the aching pain of his injuries, brings him back to reality. 

“Yes. Things had been going well. And I  _ am  _ sorry that I cheated on you.” He answers, genuinely. “It wasn’t to hurt you or because, despite what you said, I was looking for a good fuck.”

“Calum, I shouldn’t have-”

“It was because the boy I’ve been in love with since I was fifteen come to see me and I just couldn’t control myself.” He rushes, his heart beating frantically. “I couldn’t control myself and I made a mistake, but even if I did, I did not deserve to be hit and hurt the way you did to me last night.” 

“You know that I would  _ never  _ hurt you if-”

“No, stop.” Calum says, his chest aching suddenly. “No. You can’t say that because you  _ did  _ hurt me. You hurt me all the time, even though you most likely didn’t even notice it.” 

Kiernan’s tear-filled reply is cut off by Calum’s phone going on, alerting him that Niall is outside the apartment ready to get him. 

“I’ll come by later to get my things, let me know when a good time would be.” Calum says, sniffling slightly. He stands. “I know that you’re a good person under all of this, Kiernan. Your new medicine is working and you don’t deserve to be alone. But you and I are not good for each other, for more reasons than one. You need to figure some things out, and I...I have someone waiting for me.” 

He grabs his bag again, ignoring the screaming pain in his fingers, and walks to the door, trying to ignore the tears falling freely down Kiernan’s face. He’s never seen his ex cry before. 

“I really never meant to hurt you.” He says, opening the door. “But this is how is has to be. I truly hope that you find happiness, K. I think we all deserve it.”

  
  


-

  
  


Ashton has spilled half a mocha on his white dress shirt and one of his shoelaces broke this morning and today has really just been a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day. 

He leaves the crowded rail station with a heavy breath of relief, soaking in the heavy, humid evening Los Angeles air before crossing the street to his apartment building. The building is trashy in an aesthetic way and the elevator went out a year ago and he’s pretty sure nothing is up to code, but Ashton loves it nonetheless. He’s so busy trying to tuck his headphones back into his backpack as he enters the lobby that he almost misses the obviously-misplaced Australian standing there speaking to the doorman. 

Calum Hood, Ashton’s honest-to-God one and only, unbelievably is standing in the  _ lobby  _ of his shitty apartment in a Green Day vest that must be a hundred years old and black jeans so skinny, they appear to be painted on. His backpack is resting against his calves and his hair looks mussed like he was recently outdoors. His arm is in a sling and one side of his face is badly bruised and he’s obviously jet-lagged, but  _ fuck  _ if that boy isn’t the most beautiful thing Ashton has ever fucking seen. 

“Calum.” He says, shock emulating in his tone. Calum looks up from his conversation, the bruising almost austere in the harsh lobby lights, and a smile crosses his face, somewhat painfully Ashton can imagine. 

“Hey.” He says, picking up his backpack and walking over, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Look, I know this is kind of awkward, but, um, I seemed to have lost my way on my trip to Australia and am in need of a place to stay. Some random blonde with a lip ring and his red-headed boyfriend told me that maybe you’d be able to help me out?”

It’s the type of humor that Ashton has missed for years, that he hears when he dreams of a messy room and guitars broken strings and chipped paint. It’s something he hasn’t heard and hadn’t ever expected to hear again. He’s so shocked by it that his laugh sounds punched-out and shocked. 

“Yeah.” He says, his voice airy. “Yeah, I think I might be able to help you out.” 

“Awesome.” Calum says, his grin absolutely blinding. “Because I really don’t have another option.” 

Ashton smiles, for the first time in his life, as he walks up the six flights of stairs to his apartment, his eyes flicking over to Calum every few seconds like he’s in high school all over again, absolutely smitten with this cute Maori footy player. 

“It’s not much,” He says awkwardly when he unlocks the door and lets Calum and his backpack in. “But you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. There’s a view and a hot shower and um...my bed. That’s about it.” 

Calum’s smile hasn’t left his face and he lets himself venture into the living area, setting his backpack down and looking out the window. 

“It’s like London in a lot of ways.” He says, turning to look back at Ashton. “When the sun is down.” 

Ashton smiles in return and sets his own things down on the shelf by the door. 

“It reminds me of Sydney, actually.” Ashton says, walking over to Calum. “When the sun is down.” 

Calum swallows and crosses his arms over his chest, his smile fading a bit. 

“I, um, I’m planning on going home.” He says. “Back to Sydney. For a while at least.” 

“Yeah?” Ashton ventures, raising his eyebrows and looking at Calum a bit more fully. 

He looks good, a hell of a lot better than when Ashton saw him, what, six months ago? When Ashton last saw him, Calum had looked gaunt, twitchy, and a bit out of himself. Since then, Calum has put on some weight, grown his hair out, and looks much more at peace than he did when he was still living under that asshole’s roof. Pride and affection shines deep inside of Ashton’s chest. 

“Yeah. My boss pulled some strings, I’m getting transferred and promoted at once.” He says sheepishly, toeing the ground with his - can Ashton believe it? - high-top Converse. “So I’m going home finally. Gonna stay with my parents.” 

This news shocks Ashton, sending a rush of surprise and joy through him like a bolt of lightning. 

“Seriously? That’s  _ great  _ Calum. Fuck, how long has it even been?” 

Calum shrugs. 

“About three years, I think.” 

The silence falls over them, Ashton’s smile fading a little at the self-conscious tone in Calum’s voice. Ashton knows him well enough to know that he’s nervous, afraid to go back after so long, to face his parents after everything and accept their judgement. Fuck, Calum was just a kid when he left home, terrified and heart-broken, cutting his parents off completely once he started supporting himself. Ashton can’t even imagine the fear in him right now. 

Which brings him back to those bruises on Calum’s face. 

“So, what happened?” He ventures, trying to give Calum the chance to back out. “You and Kiernan broke it off?” 

Calum scoff-laughs, shaking his head to himself. 

“You could say that.” 

Ashton leans into him, pressing him for more. 

“He threw me into a glass table when he found out I cheated on him and I decided that enough was enough.” He says, his voice dangerously level, suggesting how much the break up affected him. “It was...hard to leave him. Harder than I expected it to be. I wanted to come see you the week after it happened, but I was...I was a fucking mess. I knew that I had to get myself together before I could come see you. I refractured my arm when I took it out of its cast too early, so that was my fault, but the bruising is from him, five months ago.” 

“Jesus Christ.” Ashton says, rushing to Calum, cupping his face in his hands, backing them up until Calum sits down on the couch, his hands gripping Ashton’s wrists. “He did this to you because we slept together? He fucking beat you to hell and broke your arm?” 

Calum nods calmly and strokes Ashton’s wrists. 

“It’s alright.” He says softly. “It’s alright now. It’s over.” 

“It’s not fucking  _ alright _ .” Ashton says seriously, his fingers putting the bruised skin gently. “Fuck, if I had known what he could do to you, I would have-”

“Don’t say you would have never done it.” Calum interjects. “Don’t say that. I wouldn’t trade that night for the entire fucking world, let alone some bruises and a fractured arm. I don’t care how fucked that is. So don’t you dare regret it, because I sure as hell don’t.” 

Ashton closes his eyes and drops his forehead against Calum’s, exhaling heavily. 

“I knew, when I came.” Ashton mutters gently, joining Calum on the couch and releasing his face finally. “I knew that he was doing something to you. You just weren’t yourself.” 

Calum shifts a bit, uncomfortable with the subject. 

“It’s over now.” He says again, looking at Ashton with shy eyes, as if Ashton was going to demand Calum to spill his secrets, like Calum wasn’t expecting his boundaries to be respected. 

“You’re right.” Ashton agrees. “Hey, you’re right. That’s all that matters. You’re looking great now, Cal. And you get to go home. Those are all awesome things, man.”

Calum nods, like he’s reassuring himself, and even though Ashton knows that Calum is relearning to be himself again, it hurts him to see the boy he loves so much to be so unsure. It hurts and infuriates him that someone could have hurt Calum so much that he acts like this, even around Ashton. 

But, Calum is right. It’s over now. 

“Thank you.” Calum says softly. “I know it’s kind of crazy to just show up here, but I have a week or two off before I start in Sydney, so I thought I’d come to see you. I can leave whenever. I haven’t bought my ticket yet.” 

Ashton’s heart swells with the knowledge that Calum came to him and without even buying a ticket for Sydney, leaving it to Ashton to decide. 

“I did the same to you.” 

“You had somewhere else to stay.” Calum says, shifting again. 

“Calum,” Ashton says softly, catching the younger boy’s thin hands, noting the soft skin that was so damaged when he saw him last. “It’s all fine. I’d like you to stay as long as physically possible.” 

Calum’s smile is all-consuming and brilliant when Ashton says that, a promise hitting the deepest parts of himself. 

“How about we make some dinner, huh?” Ashton says, releasing Calum’s hands. “I’m an excellent cook.” 

“Only if I don’t have to eat the vegetables.” Calum says with a hesitantly cheeky smile. For some reason, this sentence pulls at Ashton’s conscious. 

“You can eat whatever you want.You don’t have to eat any of it if you don’t want to.” Ashton says to him, jumping up from the couch. That’s how it always should have been and should be for Calum. 

His choices are his own and Ashton won’t ever stand in the way of that, even if Kiernan did. 

An hour and half later, the two of them are sitting at Ashton’s rarely-used dining table, plates of chicken and rice and asparagus in front of them. Calum sits quietly and eats his dinner in small, meticulous bites. 

“Calum, you know if it’s awful you don’t have to-”

“No!” Calum says quickly. “No, it’s good, really, I love rice and chicken. And I should have known that you would make such a good and healthy meal. That’s like, serious husband shit, Ash.” 

Ashton smirks to himself and lets it go, but keeps watching Calum out of the corner of his eye, noticing all the little ticks Calum has that he probably doesn’t even notice he has. The way he continues to glance at Ashton, which, at first (Ashton admits guiltily), he thought was just Calum checking him out, but he quickly realized it was Calum having a visual on the other person in the room. He also chews slowly and with his mouth deliberately closed, wiping his mouth with a napkin after every bite, his table manners meticulous and automatic. 

They’re all remainders, ghosts of Kiernan’s abuse still living inside Calum. They’re small, nearly imperceptible if you weren’t looking for them, but Ashton still sees them and they make him wonder what else Calum is hiding...what he’s already overcome in the months after leaving that apartment. 

Ashton isn’t sure he wants to know. 

Calum asks if he can sleep on the couch, and Ashton answers, if not a little disappointedly, that of course he can sleep on the couch. He can sleep on Ashton’s bed, with or without him in it. He could sleep in the fucking kitchen for all Ashton cares. 

“I just...I’m not really sure I’m ready to sleep with you yet.” Calum says, pulling a blanket from the closet Ashton directs him to. “It’s not...It’s not what you think. I still...fuck ok. I don’t know why this is so hard to put into words. It’s not like it’s too soon or whatever. Fuck, I’m not even sure if you want to sleep with me again, that was really pretentious to say-”

“Calum, honey.” Ashton says, the pet name slipping out before he can stop himself. “It’s all fine. We don’t have to talk about this now. All that matters is that you’re not comfortable sleeping with me, I understand. If you want to sleep in my room with the door locked, that’s fine. I don’t want you to overthink this, ok? I’m not going to get angry with you or send you to the streets. Say what you feel, say what you want. We will figure it out.” 

“Alright.” Calum says in a small voice, gripping the blanket to his chest. “That sounds good, I’m sorry I’m so...twitchy.” 

“It’s ok.” Ashton promises. He doesn’t say anything else. All Calum needs to know...all he needs to understand is that it’s ok. Ashton isn’t going to do anything to him and Ashton understands. 

And maybe, most importantly, Ashton will love him no matter how twitchy or afraid Calum is. There is very little that could make Ashton stop loving this stupid Maori boy, and a scarred past and hesitant future will never be enough. 

“Alright.” Calum says, nodding and sitting down on the couch, pulling the blankets to his chest. “I’ll just, uh...sleep then. We can figure this out later, like you said.” 

“Yeah.” Ashton answers. He double checks that Calum has enough blankets and knows where the bathroom is. Before he leaves for his room, he brings Calum a glass of water and smiles to himself when he sees Calum tucked carefully in the blankets, his teeth gnawing on his lip gently. 

“Alright.” Ashton says again, setting the glass down and turning to go. “Goodnight, then.” 

“Yeah, goodnight.” Calum answers before adding, “and thanks, Ashton. For letting me stay.” 

“Absolutely.” Ashton answers. “You would do the same for me no doubt.” 

Calum doesn’t answer and Ashton doesn’t ask him to, just retreats from the living room, shutting off the lights on the way, and retreating into his own bedroom. His own bed feels chilly and strangely empty when he slides into it. He’s spent many nights alone in his room since moving in as well as many nights with company, boys and girls alike, but tonight feels decidedly different. It was one thing to feel lonely without Calum when he was on the other side of the world with a man who didn’t realize his beauty or his worth and who treated him with cruelty when he should have treated him with love. But it’s a whole other thing to be laying here, missing someone who is just a wall or two away. 

The distance between them, though shorter than it has been for years, feels suddenly unsurmountable. 

Ashton is staring blankly at the wall, feeling like a complete idiot, when he realizes that he is, in fact, being a complete fucking idiot. 

Calum may be recovering and a little unsure,  but he is still human and he is not fragile. Ashton doesn’t need to handle him with kid gloves because someone else handled him without any gloves at all. 

Before he realizes exactly what he’s doing, Ashton is getting out of bed and pulling on a sweatshirt and leaving his room for the living room. When he turns on the light, Calum sits up from the bed, shocked and skittish, his mouth open to ask Ashton what’s wrong. 

“I’m sorry.” Ashton says, crossing the room is a few strides before joining Calum on the couch, cupping his face and pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth without waiting for permission. 

After a moment of rigidity, Calum relaxes in Ashton’s touch, kissing him back with the slightest hint of tongue and desperation. His fingers touch Ashton’s jaw softly, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed. 

“Sorry.” Ashton repeats, breathless when he breaks away, pressing kisses to Calum’s cheeks, his hands sliding down the sides of Calum’s neck. “I just couldn’t sleep knowing-”

“Kiss me again.” Calum whines, pulling Ashton up and kissing him firmly, his hand sliding back into Ashton’s curls, twisting in tightly. 

“Good.” Calum says when they pull apart, panting a little. “That was good. Okay.” 

Ashton licks his bottom lip and lets his fingers trail down, feeling the ridge of Calum’s collarbone. 

“In case you were wondering if I still feel the same.” He mutters, nosing at Calum’s jaw one time. “I do.” 

Calum smiles and laughs, brushing Ashton’s hair back from his eyes. 

“Same here.” He answers. “I’m so glad you came, I was just thinking about how badly I want to kiss you.” 

“I knew I wasn’t going to be able to sleep unless I did it.” Ashton says softly. He strokes a curl over Calum’s ear. “Sleep well now, honey.”   

Calum nods and reaches for one more kiss before Ashton pets his hair back and lets him lay back down. 

“You too, Ash.” He smiles, watching Ashton leave the room again. 

This time, when Ashton slides into his bed, which is still chilly and empty, his heart beats a little bit easier and he can’t help but to think that the lingering taste of Calum on his tongue has something to do with that. 

 

-

 

The next week is by far the best six days Ashton has ever had in LA. 

And he had his twenty-first in LA, which was, needless to say, pretty sick. 

Calum, despite not having a job, seems to fit well into Ashton’s routine, coming and going from the apartment when he goes to get coffee or bring Ashton lunch at work or pick up groceries. He proves to be a surprisingly good cook, something he accepts with blazing cheeks when Ashton compliments him on. 

“Kiernan didn’t like cooking, but he liked dinner.” He said softly, pushing the food around on his plate with his fork. “And he liked good dinner, so I had to learn pretty quickly.” 

“Oh.” Was all Ashton had said, the delicious meal suddenly turning to ash in his mouth. 

 On the second night, when they sit down to watch television, Ashton offers Calum the remote and Calum shakes his head, shrinking in on himself. 

“I, uh...you just pick.” He had said gently. 

Ashton nodded and did as he was asked, but that gut-wrenching feeling of this behavior being a result of Kiernan sat heavily within him. 

Calum is sweet with him, funny and cheeky, and Ashton can see both the boy he was before they left home and the young man he was living with Kiernan. He’s still himself, and he’s sweeter than ever, giving Ashton unasked-for kisses and compliments, showing him his favorite music and asking Ashton to share his thoughts with him, but Ashton also notices the damage Kiernan has done; the little things that have changed, habits that weren’t there before. 

Ashton is laying on his bed one night, watching Calum go through his closet, scoffing at ripped flannels and making note of shirts that he knows Ashton got from one of the other boys back home. Calum is chattering away to himself, something Ashton is quite familiar with, examining the clothes and trying to decide on an outfit to wear out. 

“I did go out in London, with Niall and some other lads.” He says, grabbing a simple black t-shirt with a rip in the collar. “Never got to wear anything...fitting, though. Especially when I’d go out with Kiernan. Nothing but button-ups and khakis usually. He had a very mild taste, once we started dating.”

Ashton, though he doesn’t voice it, thinks this is practically a sin. Calum is standing in his boxers, which are quite tight-fitting, and a white t-shirt, and while Ashton definitely  _ loves  _ Calum, there’s no denying his blatant attraction to him as well. 

“I think you should wear whatever you feel good in.” Ashton comments. Calum smiles softly at the shirt before peeking at Ashton from the corner of his eye. 

“Yeah?” He asks. Ashton nods, grabbing his phone to scroll through twitter. 

“Sure. Do what makes you feel nice, honey.” He mutters, trying to appear nonchalant about it. Calum doesn’t say anything, just looks back down at the shirt and strokes it once. 

“Do you, um…” Calum trails off. “Nevermind.” He says it quickly, like he’s remembered something, and hangs the shirt back up. 

“What?” Ashton asks, sitting up. 

“Nothing.” Calum says, throwing Ashton a non-convincing smile and closing the closet doors. 

This, for Ashton, is unacceptable.

“No, hey.” He says, getting up and, throwing one arm around Calum’s waist, leads him back to the closet and opens the doors, grabbing the shirt. “Calum, what is it? Speak your truth.” 

Calum looks at Ashton with clouded eyes for a second, his confidence wavering, but takes the shirt from Ashton’s hands anyway. 

“How...how attached are you to this shirt?” 

“Calum, babe.” Ashton says, turning and pressing his lips to Calum’s temple. “It’s a black piece of cotton. It’s probably from WalMart actually.”

Calum laughs, uninhibited, turning and kissing Ashton’s cheek. 

“I was just wondering if, for tomorrow, I could...make some renovations to it.” He says softly. “For myself. And, um...if you don’t like it, then I’ll buy you a new one and won’t wear it out-”

“It doesn’t matter what I’m going to think of it. It just matters how you feel in it.” Ashton clarifies. “But I will give you my opinion nonetheless tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Calum smiles, breaking from Ashton’s grip with one last kiss and taking the shirt with him to the kitchen, leaving Ashton smirking to himself, his chest still warm when Calum had been pressed against it. 

The next night, Ashton is in the bathroom trying to fluff his hair correctly, making his curls stand out. He is in the middle of telling himself that he’s going to all this effort because it’s part of his normal routine and  _ not  _ because Calum is going to the bars with him when said boy comes into the bedroom. Calum had been getting ready in the living room where his bag was still sitting by the couch, where Calum had continued to sleep despite growing more comfortable with Ashton. 

“Hey, does my hair look…” Ashton trails off when he walks into the bedroom, his eyes locking on Calum. 

Calum, who six months ago had looked good despite being underfed, anxious, abused, and addicted to nicotine, has effectively stolen the breath from Ashton’s lungs. He’s in brand-new black skinny jeans with holes in the knees and Ashton’s t-shirt, with the rip still in the collar and the lower half of it missing. It looks as though he’s taken Ashton’s kitchen scissors and gone away with the bottom few inches, turning Ashton’s stupid WalMart t-shirt into a well-fitting crop-top that accentuates the teasing inch or two of skin between its hem and Calum’s belt. It makes Calum look curved and fit...and hopelessly attractive to Ashton. 

“Goddamn.” He says without thinking, looking at Calum from toe to tip, his appreciation manifesting as heat low in his belly. This is going to be a long night if he can’t get himself under control. 

“So, what do you think?” Calum asks sheepishly, pressing his thighs together and linking his hands behind his back. 

“I think you look fucking hot.” Ashton answers simply. 

“You do?” Calum asks, biting his lip. “You don’t think this is...too feminine?” 

_ I’ll kill him _ , Ashton thinks to himself when Calum asks.  _ I will tear him piece by piece for making you doubt yourself like this.  _

“It’s a shirt, honey.” He points out, swallowing his anger and pulling Calum against him. “It doesn’t have a gender. Plus, it could be male, female, or anything in between. The point is, you look fucking sexy in it.” 

He accentuates his point by kissing Calum’s nose, making the boy go a little dazed. 

“I’m glad...you think so.” He says softly. He fixes a strand of Ashton’s hair before backing away. “Now you’re ready to go.”

Ashton is right about one thing, it ends up being a long fucking night, watching Calum dance is those new jeans and the godforsaken crop-top. He attracts more than one guy on the floor, making Ashton the hypothetical cat that got the cream when he walks up to him and takes his waist. 

Several mix drinks and a couple of shots in, the two of them end up pressed against the wall with Calum’s tongue in Ashton’s mouth and Ashton’s hand down Calum’s pants. It’s messy and hot and alcohol-fueled, but, as Ashton drags Calum from the club and back to the apartment, it feels nothing if not right. 

Calum whines and keens when Ashton touches him, their kisses growing messier and messier. They opt to forgo the sex and just end up falling asleep in Ashton’s bed, Ashton in his boxers and Calum in his underwear and crop top, sprawled across Ashton’s chest. They laugh about it when they wake up, hungover and kiss-hungry, and from then on, Calum spends the night in Ashton’s bed. 

On the eighth day, Calum tells Ashton that he has to fly out the next day, the absolute latest he can leave before needs to get settled in at home. Ashton is disappointed when he hears this, Calum looks like he is too, but he knows it’s what is best for both for Calum. 

“I don’t want to have sex.” Calum says to him the night before he has to go. “When I come back, yes. But not tonight...it’ll hurt too much.”

“I understand.” Ashton answers. Though he supposes he should be upset, Ashton realizes that he doesn’t really have the drive to have sex either, just to lay here and maybe kiss a little, memorizing Calum before he has to go in the morning. “I’m going to miss you when you go.” 

“It won’t be forever.” Calum points out. 

“Long enough to hurt.” 

“Not like we haven’t been through that before.” He says softly, pressing closer to Ashton and kissing his cheek. “And this time...I’ll actually have your phone number.” 

“You know who gave me your number, right?” Ashton asks with a slight laugh at Calum’s insinuation. “Luke gave it to me, probably about a year ago. He called to tell me to go to you.” 

“He...Luke told you to come to London?” Calum asks, clearly surprised. 

“He did.” Ashton confirms. “He was...worried about you.” 

“He was worried about me?” Calum’s voice is small. “W-Why?” 

Ashton hesitates, but they have been skirting around this whole thing for the last eight days, and maybe it’s time they talk about it a little bit. For the love of God, Calum’s face is  _ still  _ bruised from a fight that must have happened five months ago. Plus, Ashton had seen the limp Calum had when he visited, had seen his wrist wrapped when he claimed he got in a fight with the copier at work. 

“Michael, um...Mikey thought that Kiernan was maybe hitting you.” 

The sentence sits heavily between them, and Ashton can feel the hitch in Calum’s breathing, his heart rate picking up. 

“Oh.” He says, breathless. 

“Calum, I know it hasn’t been long. We don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to.” Ashton says softly. He pets Calum’s hair, dragging his fingers over the still-tender skin below his eye. 

“I remember thinking once…” Calum says in a hushed voice. “That if I was ever to come clean about what was going on in my relationship...It would be to you.” 

Ashton takes a heavy breath and kisses Calum’s forehead. 

“Whenever you want, honey. I’ll listen.” 

“Not...not everything, ok?” Calum says, his eyes squeezed closed and breath clipped. “I’m ready to tell you some of it, but...I can’t tell you everything yet.” 

“Only what you want.” 

“He...He threw me into a glass table when he found out I cheated on him, but that wasn’t the first time. I don’t know, it didn’t happen that often, only when I  _ really  _ messed up at home. He would just get picky about the smallest things and could go from completely harmless to absolutely  _ brutal  _ in what seemed like seconds.” Calum says to him, still looking away. “He rarely punched. Mostly just slapped me and grabbed me to make his points. Sometimes he choked me. But mostly it was the other stuff. He wouldn’t let me go out with my friends or wear what I wanted and he would let his stupid friends feel me up when they came over.” 

“ _ What _ ?” Ashton punches out, shock and anger rippling through him, visceral and pulsing. “He forced you into orgies?” 

“No.” Calum says with a humorless laugh. “Just looked the other way when they’d stroke my arms or touch my chest or...grab my ass. I don’t know. And the things he would say...it just wasn’t good to be with him. I mean, you saw it yourself. I wasn’t in a good place, but I always felt so guilty for wanting to leave.” 

“You felt guilty? What in the hell could make  _ you  _ feel guilty in this scenario?” 

“Kiernan is bipolar. Sometimes he was out of his mind and other times he was alright. As things went on, I couldn’t tell if things were okay because Kiernan was happy or because he was too fucked up on drugs to know the difference.” Calum explains. “And I didn’t want him to think that he was...unlovable because of the way he behaved. He honest-to-God could not control himself sometimes, and that’s not his fault. It just took me a long time to realize that it wasn’t my fault either. And that I was not responsible for his well being, especially at the expense of my own.”

“You know that you did the right thing?” Ashton says. “It’s not bad that you left. And you didn’t leave because he was bipolar, you left because you loved someone more than him, and that wasn’t fair for either or you. And...quite frankly, I don’t care what kind of drugs he has to take or what kind of mood swings he has...there is  _ never  _ an excuse to lay your hands on someone, let alone someone you’re supposed to love unconditionally.”

“Yeah.” Calum says, snuggling closer. “I finally figured that out. I just...I lived with him so long, I don’t even know if I know myself anymore. I just know that...I feel most like the person I was when I’m with you. I don’t know…”

Ashton kisses Calum softly for confidence. 

“It sucks, but I think I need to be away from you, too. You remind me too much of who I was when I was sixteen. I know that I want to be with you, but I think I may need to figure out who I am first. Going back home is a good place to start, I think.” Calum explains, looking sheepish. “It will be good to be around my family and friends. It’s just going to feel impossible being apart again.” 

“Hey, it’s like you said. We’ve done it before, and you can call or FaceTime whenever you feel like it.” Ashton explains. “We don’t have to be together, but I would still like to hear from you, you know?” 

“Of course.” Calum smiles. His face, though pressed against Ashton’s stark-white bedding, is gorgeous even with the yellow-ish hue of the still-healing bruises. Sometimes, it physically hurts to look at Calum because of the things he does to Ashton’s heart. 

Being away from him is going to be all sorts of agonizing. 

“I’m proud of you.” Ashton says. “For awhile, after everything fell apart, I was so...so angry with you. And I felt absolutely hopeless. I could never have imagined...it seemed like things for us were through after two years. I can’t believe you’re here, strong and beautiful, and just for me.” 

“You always were so poetic.” Calum smiles fondly. “It’s going to be hard tomorrow. But I’m excited to face it.” 

“You should be.” Ashton affirms, letting Calum go to roll onto his back, deeper under the blankets. 

“Ash?” Calum says, rolling onto his back as well. 

“Hm?”

“I think I love you.” 

Ashton’s heart stops beating and his eyes squeeze tightly together. 

“Yeah.” He says, thinking about the last week and the upcoming rest of his life with Calum in it, his heart suddenly feeling strangely too large. “I understand that feeling. I have it too.” 

Calum’s only answer is a quick kiss to Ashton’s neck before laying back down, his foot barely touching Ashton’s, a gentle reassurance that he’s  _ there.  _

Like Ashton could ever forget. 


End file.
